


Repeat That For Me? (Remember Me?)

by faraandmera



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: (as of s17), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, Post-Canon, Post-Project Freelancer, Project Freelancer, Season 17 Spoilers, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, alpha ai church lives, but also technically canon compliant, everythings platonic for now except canon pairings, me adding more tags to this fic - oh no its becoming one of those stories, relationship tags may be added - Freeform, tagging this fic is a nightmare actually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 40,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26227390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faraandmera/pseuds/faraandmera
Summary: “Why did it have to behere?”Wash mutters, staring at his too-young reflection. Just a few hours away from one of the worst moments in his life.(Wash Inadvertently exits the closed-loop of his own timeline, and ends up back in Project Freelancer. This time able to change things without risk of paradox.)
Relationships: AI Program Epsilon | Leonard Church & Agent Washington, Agent Carolina & Agent Washington (Red vs. Blue), Agent Carolina/Agent York (Red vs. Blue), Agent North Dakota & AI Program Theta (Red vs. Blue), Agent North Dakota & Agent South Dakota (Red vs. Blue), Agent Texas | AI Program Beta & Agent Washington, Agent Texas | AI Program Beta & Agent York, Agent Washington & Agent York (Red vs. Blue), Franklin Delano Donut & Agent Washington, Lavernius Tucker & Agent Washington, Leonard L. Church | AI Program Alpha/Agent Texas | AI Program Beta, Michael J. Caboose & Agent Washington, The Meta | Agent Maine & Agent Washington
Comments: 157
Kudos: 196





	1. This might as well happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said "fine. if nobody else is going to write my very-specific rvb au then i’ll do it myself!" and I actually meant it for once.

“Why did it have to be _here?”_ Wash mutters, staring at his too-young reflection. Just a few hours away from one of the worst moments in his life.

They’d done it. They fixed the timeline, and were back on Iris since Dr. Grey has given Wash the OK to leave the hospital under the watch of Carolina and Tucker. Well, some of them weren’t there to stay. Donut was only on Iris temporarily- so he said- but for the moment, they were all there. (As many of them as could be, anyway.)

With the moment of relative-peace came discussions long waiting to be had. Specifically: how time travel is, as they’ve seen, a closed-loop.

“If we hadn’t lived it I would have banked on multi-verse theory.”

“Well…” Donut spoke. “If I understood what Chrovos said when I was still working for her, it kind of is?”

“What.” Carolina turned to Donut, disbelief clear even through the helmet.

“But we created a pardox; it was a big problem!” Simmons’ exclamation drew the others attention back to him. “Are you telling me I could still have been using the time gun this whole time?”

“No- what?”

“Wait.” Carolina held up a hand. “You still have one of the time guns? How?”

“Uh, I just still had it when we got out of the singularity.” (" _Everwhen_ ," Donut corrected.) Proving his point, Simmons lead them to, and showed them the object of their most recent problems.

“We can’t keep this,” Carolina said, simply.

“But didn’t Donut just say-”

“No.”

“Yeah,” Donut started, “We’re stuck in a closed loop already. That’s _why_ a paradox happened. You know, the _really bad thing_ you guys did.”

“Look, how time travel actually works doesn’t matter.”

“Carolina’s right,” Wash said. “Even if we could, theoretically, exit the closed-loop, it wouldn’t undo anything that happened in our timeline. We have to live with our mistakes.”

“Right.” Simmons picked the time-gun up. “So what do we do with it?”

“Destroy it?” Donut offered.

“We don’t know what would happen if we did that.” Wash took it out of Simmons’ hands. “We could try to disassemble it? So it can’t be used?”

“That’s just as dangerous,” Carolina pointed out.

“Well we could just dig a hole and shove- put- _leave_ it there.” Donut’s suggestion was met with a moment of consideration.

“Someone else could find it in the future.”

“True.”

“Well-” Something explodes outside of Red Base. “Oh _what now?”_

The Reds and Blues have this very incredible knack for causing absolute chaos during times of what should be peace.

A few mistimed actions, an explosion, and some yelling results in the time-gun exploding in the face of the person holding it. And while from their perspective, he’s fine- gets up only slightly disoriented a few moments later- that’s only within their own closed-loop.

Wash wakes on the Mother of Invention years prior.

“Why did it have to be _here?”_ Wash mutters, staring at his too-young reflection. Just a few hours away from one of the worst moments in his life. The first moment he, “met,” Epsilon. If he assumes he’s still within the closed-loop, he has to go through with it, despite what he knows will happen. And even if he isn’t…

What else could he do? It’s be too suspicious of he suddenly said he didn’t want the AI, not to mention that it could potentially force someone else to go through what he had. At least he knows what’s going to happen. Is mentally prepared for it.

“This is fine,” he tells himself. He’s already done this, and he… _well_ any damage is already done. He knows what’s going to happen, and he’ll survive. He’ll end up…fine, in as much as he can. This is fine. It’ll be fine. He knows what’s going to happen, he’ll be fine.

He doesn’t want to do this again.

_Don’t panic,_ Wash tells himself. _Don’t give any signs you’re freaking out._ If they notice anything, he doesn’t think they’ll stop it, but it could be suspicious. Why would he be so nervous, right? So he tries to quiet his too-loud heart, and too-loud thoughts.

_You’ll be fine-_

_{Stop you’ll make me- don’t say- was anyone hurt- late- goodbye- Agent- seriously-}_ Is he screaming? { _I hate- Carolina- it’s not your fault- Washington- Maine- North- South- Texas- Allison- Texas- died- goodbyes.}_

 _{“I wont ask you to take care of them.”}_ There’s shouting around him, but he can’t process any of it. _{_ _“Take care of yourself, Wash.”}_ But Epsilon can’t remember that, it hasn’t happened yet. { _Don’t call me- you took my name too- not like you’re new to the concept- I thought this wasn’t- you just have to have faith- miss me- aint that-}_

Those aren’t Epsilon’s memories.

“Sedate him.”

Wash wakes on the Mother of Invention, disoriented. Disoriented and with the very specific feeling that he’s _not alone in his own head._ He refuses to open his eyes, afraid to wake just before the crash, again.

 _{Don’t freak out.}_ The voice that echos through his mind is all too familiar. One he hasn’t heard since the message Temple faked to get the Reds and Blue’s attention.

 _Epsilon?_ He thinks, a conflict of fear and a strange sense of relief.

_{Who else would I be?}_

_Asshole._

_{See: you know.}_

_How?_

_{Well you’re not the only one who got memories from **that** you know.}_

Sure, Wash knew that, but that didn’t explain how Epsilon hadn’t completely unraveled, again. (Or, he reasons, for the first time.) Though…he supposes the lack of paradox-related feelings means he’s outside of the original closed-loop.

 _{Factually knowing the future did it.}_ That there was a future for him, Epsilon doesn't say.

_So, you’re…_

_{Mostly based on your memories of me? That's right. Speaking of remembering shit: you’re up earlier than you remember.}_

_Oh._

_{You’ve got company, by the way.}  
_

_Oh._ Wash forces himself to open his eyes, blinking into awareness. Part of him still expects his company to be North and South, like he remembers. Instead it’s York and- of all people- Tex. _What the hell?_

_{ don’t know, man.}_

_Thanks, you’re a big help._

_{I know, you’re lucky you've got me.}_

“Well look who’s finally awake.” York’s voice pulls Wash’s attention out of his own head. He tries not to think about the fact York's _dead_ in the future Wash came from. That almost everyone on the MoI right now is.

“How long was I out?”

_{You could have asked me.}_

_Shut up._

“A day and a half.”

_{Hey aren’t these two supposed to be gone by now?}_

_I was in and out of consciousness for a while, right? They must still have been here, if they’re here now._

_{Guess so. Your memories from now are kind of a mess. Want me to clean up in here?}_

_Leave my memories alone._

_[Your loss.}_ There's no real force behind the words.

“Only a day and a half?”

“Only? You should have been up before then. Did something go wrong?” The question is probing, he realizes. Looking for something.

“Uh,” Wash says, fumbling for a response. “I had…issues with…adjusting?”

_{Sound less sure, that’ll convince him.}_

_Shut up._

_{You already said that.}_

_I didn’t **say** anything, these are thoughts._

“You know, kid, they even thought you’d be out longer.” Wash startles, turning to Tex. Right, she’s here. For…some reason.

“The lack of faith is noted.” Wash sits up. He doesn’t feel particularly bad. Nothing like he felt the first time.

“Right, well. We were just stopping by before…” York seems to consider his word choice for a moment too long, “the next mission.”

_{They’re going now.}_

_Yeah._

_{We could go with them.}_

_They’ll come back for Alpha. We could make that easier for them by already being here._

Both inside and outside of his head is silent for a moment. Wash clears his throat, before speaking. “Next mission?”

“Uh…can’t talk about it.” Despite her wearing a helmet, even Wash can practically feel the look Tex shoots York.

 _You could convince Alpha to go with them. Your memories-_ Wash cuts that thought off with a realization. If that happens, the Alpha wont be sent to Blood Gulch. Then the Reds and Blues wont-

His thoughts are selfish. They could end everything early. They wont create a paradox this way, so they can fix things. Stop the project early. Save the Alpha now. But he…doesn’t want to. There are things he wants to change- and he does want to save not only the Alpha, but most of the other Freelancers- but the idea of preventing his _family_ from forming sits harshly, painfully, in his chest.

Which is a selfish feeling, so he pushes it down.

_We could change something._

_{One thing at a time.}_

_Church?_

_{When have you ever known me to not be selfish?}_ Wash thinks of Chorus, and then earlier. Thinks of Epsilon’s last message. Then further back, to the Alpha staying behind with Wash, even knowing what will happen to him. 

He voices none of it. _What are you being Selfish about?_

_{The same things as you.}_

“Uh, Wash?” There’s a hand waving in front of his face. Wash jumps. “You okay?”

“I- yes. I’m fine.”

_What are we doing?_

_{You’re asking me?}_

_Well…we’re in this together, right?_

_{Huh.}_ A pause. _{I figured you’d want me out of **here** as soon as possible.}_

“Well, we better…get going.”

_So?_

_{They’ll both survive this part without us.}_

“Okay.” Wash nods, slowly. “Good luck.”

“Don’t need it,” Tex says. And then the two are leaving.

_You’re…real right?_

Epsilon’s holographic form flickers into existence next to him. “Yep. You’re only as crazy as you already were.”

“I’m not- fine, okay.” Wash sighs. “So what _are_ we doing?”

“Basically everyone survives the crash, so we can leave that alone.”

“And after that?”

“The only thing we _can_ change right now- without changing the important shit- is stopping the Meta early.”

“The _important shit_?”

“Blood Gulch, obviously. Keep up.”

“So, you think we should do that _now?!”_

“No, are you crazy?”

“Apparently.”

“We’ve gotta learn to work together, first. We’ve got time. At least 156 hours.”

“But-” _But Sigma is already running things by now._

_{There’s still plenty of time before Maine is too far gone.}_

_Plenty of time?_ Wash thinks, bitterly. What does plenty of time mean, when in only a few days he'll be far enough gone to try and kill Carolina?

_{Well he let you live way after that, didn’t he?}_

_What?_

_{When you were shot?}_

_He didn’t know I had a healing unit._

_{He had- what- 4 AI? Come on we’re too good to miss that.}_

“Oh,” Wash says, suddenly feeling sick.

It’s a good thing. They still have time, and Maine can recover. That’s one person they could save- already have a plan for. But the idea of Maine still _being in there_ even after Sigma and the other AI were in control is something he didn’t _want_ to think about.

“You gonna be okay there?”

“Yeah.” _So, stopping Sigma._

_{First: getting you used to having an AI. And me getting used to being a functioning one.}_

_Oh, right, you only have **my** memories of- uh- you._

_{I’ll figure it out.}_ He's silent for a moment. _{Actually goal 1: you need more rest.}_

_I feel better than I have in years?_

_{Not convincing Agent, “I haven’t slept in 34 hours and this is a good day.”}_

_It’s 29 hours, actually._

_{Not helping your case, dumbass.}_

Wash wakes on the Mother of Invention six days before it’s going to crash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if epsilon/chruch seem somewhat ooc in this chapter please consider: he's missing a lot right now (even when it comes to things wash remembers, he didn't get *all* of it)


	2. Building Blocks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash wakes on the Mother of Invention alone.
> 
> _{You know,}_ Epsilon starts. Right. Not alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was going to have more but then I realized how long that would make it turn out so......  
> here's this

When he first joined Blue team- when he was still wearing Chruch’s armor, still using his name to hide- Wash had thought his place there was conditional. Just like the "family" of project freelancer- the friendships- were conditional.

When he woke up screaming, stumbled his way into the base’s kitchen, and collapsed onto the ground, he’d been afraid it’d ruin something. Instead Caboose had- with a surprising level of quiet- found his way into the kitchen, and sat beside Wash. Started telling a story that Wash couldn’t quite follow. And though it didn’t help him with sleep, any, his breathing leveled out as Caboose spoke.

When Wash woke after being shot- again- it was with Caboose already sitting beside him in the hospital bed. Something he was sure Dr. Grey wouldn’t allow, had she known, but something he wasn’t particularly worried about. Caboose grinned upon seeing him awake, and grabbed one of his hands as he filled Wash in on what he missed.

Wash wakes on the Mother of Invention alone.

_{You know,}_ Chruch- Epsilon he corrects himself, knowing he has to get used to that for now- starts. Right. Not alone. _{I probably cared about Caboose._ _}_

Probably. Past tense. Because despite knowing the future- despite having _Wash’s_ memories- he doesn’t know Caboose, the way he’s supposed to.

_He admits it._

_{Don’t tell him that.}_

They’ve got three more days before the Mother of Invention crashes. They haven’t seen Maine at all, not that it’s particularly surprising. Some part of Wash is relieved. Unsure what he’s actually going to feel, seeing his friend alive and _there_ , but still not quite himself. The way he feels every time he interacts with North or South is bad enough. He hasn’t tried to talk to Carolina.

They’ve got three more days.

Working with Epsilon is weird, because they are simultaneously completely able to communicate- Epsilon says _left_ or _right_ , and Wash doesn’t have the moment of hesitation he usually does with directions- and completely out of sync on how they approach situations. Epsilon has more time to process things. Time Wash has never had, and has learned not to rely on. Certainty has never been a thing he could wait for.

“We should have a training session _against_ someone,” Epsilon tells him, and Wash has to agree.

So they end up going up against South. Wash chooses to focus on the feeling of pointing a gun at her again- only able to cause armor-lock, sure, but still a reminder- instead of worrying about getting armor-locked himself. That feeling of dread is one he can’t think about for too long.

_{Round’s starting.}_

_Yes I have ears, thank you._

_{Just trying to help.}_

_You’re trying to be annoying._

_{I can do both- On your left.}_ Wash narrowly dives out of the way of South’s shot, and fires in her direction without really looking. He gets back to his feet just as she drops the gun from her now armor-locked arm, and kicks it up to her other hand, firing again with that one. _{One step.}_

Wash steps once to the right, then moves forward. Long-range may be the point of guns, in general, but South isn’t slow enough to give him the chance at their distance.

Wash grabs her usable arm, and she counters that by slamming a knee into his guts. _{Fire.}_ Wash does so at the same time he questions _why_.

“Point: Washington.” _Oh._

_{See. You’re lucky to have me.}_

“Son of a bitch.”

_{She’s going to be mad.}_

_South is always mad._

Of the five rounds, Wash loses two of them. Gets a lot more bruises, he thinks, than he gave out, though. South, he thinks, likely would have beaten him more if it wasn’t for the fact he had years of extra experience he wasn’t supposed to.

“This is bullshit, let’s go again.”

_{Nope, you need to eat something at some point today.}_

_Seriously?_

_{Yes, **seriously** , asshole.}_

“I can’t. My mom says no.”

“Don’t be an dick,” Epsilon says, as he blinks into form beside him.

“That your AI?” South asks, annoyance clear in her tone.

“Yeah.”

“Sup- uh- South, right?”

_What was that?_

_{“Sup Bitch,” probably wouldn’t have helped get us out of another match.}_

South and Epsilon have some kind of conversation- one Wash tunes out- as they exit the training grounds. North joins them in the hallway, and conversation slowly but surely shifts to Tex and York disappearing.

“She went after Wyoming’s AI. She’ll probably come back,” South says with an undue level of certainty. Wash hasn’t actually seen Wyoming, either, but he’s not someone Wash finds himself particularly concerned with.

“We don’t know that,” North says. South scoffs in response.

“Things have really gone bad, huh.” Wash’s words get a strange amount of silence from the other two.

“Hey, Wash, are you okay? You’ve been kind of…off since you woke up.”

“Oh- uh- I’m fine.” What was he like, before? He should remember- thinks he does- but actually trying to act like himself of years ago isn’t something he was really prepared for. What about what he said- his tone- was actually wrong?

_{You sound way too tired, dude.}_

_Noted._ Not that it’ll mater in a few days.

These two will make it out of here, just fine. But Wash has no idea what they were actually doing when the MoI crashed. Just that they were gone when he woke up after the crash had knocked him out. (Them and everyone else.)

A conditional concern.

“Nobody's been sent out in a while,” Wash says.

“Yeah, they’re probably worried about what happened with Tex.”

_{Well I bet the **Director** is.}_

_Hypocrisy?_

_{Fuck you.}_

Wash makes his way down the halls of the Mother of Invention, twenty minutes before the alarms will start going off.

_{You ready for this?}_

_Yeah, of course._ Despite what he’s say, there’s a raging anxiety in his chest.

_{We’re gonna change the fucking future.}_

_We kind of already have._

_{Change it more.}_

_Right._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> today fucking sucks (the only employed person in my household just got kinda perma-laid off) so my focus is not great. So if i missed any like super obvious grammar/spelling things please let me know. I'll fix them.


	3. Things that are (un)preventable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instinct drives his actions. His mind is a stream of self-reminders. Don’t die. This is too familiar. Don’t die. He was weakened last time, and Wash still lost. This is too familiar. Don’t die.

Losing people is something Wash is used to. Everyone from Project Freelancer- even if Carolina came back, later- was gone at some point. Leaving him behind, or dying, or both. The Reds and Blues startling level of survivability was something that should have been a relief. But supposed captures, and stab wounds, and losses he should have predicted were always there. Always possible.

Project Freelancer is going to fall apart no matter what he does now. And it should. Everyone will leave, and if he’s allowing Blood Gulch to play out how it’s supposed to, he’ll have to hide until after then to meet the Reds and Blues. That’s years.

Project Freelancer’s conditional family is going to break. Already started. In fifteen minutes, it’ll be beyond repair.

_{What’s the plan?}_

_You don’t already have one?_

_{I have multiple. Give me some credit.}_

_We might as well start by helping out Tex and York._

_{Security system, then?}_

Without any response from Wash, Epsilon starts leading him through the ship. The alarms go off just seconds before Wash bursts into the room. _Maybe I misremembered._

_{Nah, you’re just slower than I thought you’d be.}_

_Are you insulting me or admitting you made a mistake?_

_{Yes. Now let me at that security system.}_

The blaring of the alarms going silent doesn’t do them much good, on its own. Everyone already heard them. _What are you actually doing?_

_{Disabling camera’s on the way to Alpha.}_

Wash doesn’t really know where to look for Maine. He must be on the ship, or else he wouldn’t be able to be there when it crashed, but his memories don’t account for things he was unconscious for. So his route through the ship is, basically, aimless. _You didn’t see him on the cameras?_

_{No. But there’s a surprising lack of security in parts of this ship.}_

_Great._

The gravity disengages. “Oh, prefect. That’s what I wanted.”

Wash pushes himself off of the floor, and down the halls. Aimlessly searching isn’t going to do them any good. _What can they do,_ he wonders.

_We know he’s there when we crash._

_{Yeah?}_

_Where’s the safest place to be during the crash?_

_{Oh, got you. We wait for the crash. Hold on I’ll figure it.}_

Third space ship crash, and it’s not any easier than any other time was. Epsilon activates Wash’s armor-lock just as the ship hits a cliff, while he hits a wall. _We have to get out of ship._ Epsilon disengages his armor-lock so he can move again. Wash stands shakily, sliding down the nearest hallway, as the ship falls onto its side.

_{Take a left. We can get out through there.}_

The first time the MoI crashed, Wash was still in the medical bay. Having just woken up- disorientated, in pain, afraid- and been left there by North and South. The crash had knocked him unconscious, and when he woke again hours had passed. He’d learn later what happened while he was out. He’d learn later how many people knew he was there, and didn’t bother to check. He’d learn later that the disconnect he’d found over the previous months, between himself and Maine, had been because Sigma was really the one running the show, by then. His friends were gone, for one reason or another, and some already had been long than he knew.

Wash stumbles through the snow, to the side of the ship. To the cliff he knows will hide Carolina’s survival if he-

 _“NO!”_ Tex’s voice hits him before he sees Maine. Before he can register his hand held out to the side, holding what is effectively Eta and Iota. Carolina isn't there.

_{Shit.}_

_We have to-_

_{Shoot him!}_

_What?!_

_{His hand!}_

Carolina will survive, Wash reminds himself as he lifts his gun and fire. The AI chips fall from Maine's hand, landing in the snow, and Maine- the Meta, whatever- turn to face Wash quickly. Grabs the brute-shot- _Grif-shot_ , Epsilon unhelpfully, jokingly, corrects- off his back and raises it to fire at Wash.

_{Go right._ _}_

Wash dives, feeling the force of the explosion to his side forcing him further. He rolls to a stop lifting his arms just enough to fire again.

_We have to get closer._

_{Working on it.}_

Another fired Grenade, Wash moves on his own. Instinct drives his actions as his mind is a stream of self-reminders. Don’t die. This is too familiar. Don’t die. He was weakened last time, and Wash still lost. This is too familiar. Don’t die.

His HUD lights up with directions.

_{You’ll be fine. You’ve got me.}_

_Overconfident much?_

_{Left!}_

Wash stumbles forward, all too quickly in Maine’s space. _We need to get his helmet off to get to Sigma._

_{Worry about not dying first!}_

Wash moves back, narrowly avoiding a blade to the neck. Loses balance in the snow and hits the ground.

_{Up!}_

Without really thinking, Wash kicks his left leg up, hitting Maine’s arm and stopping the second swing of the blade. A horrible popping sound reaches him before the pain in his knee does. “Fuck-” His left leg is grabbed, and he’s tossed to the side. Lucky not to be thrown all the way around, off the cliff. Looks back, as the brute-shot is lifted to point directly at him. Pushes himself up enough to try and get out of the way, just as a gunshot echos out.

Maine stumbles, as a bullet goes through his legs. Wash turns, quickly, finding that Tex is still there, by the ship. Holding a gun. One of his. He must have let go of it when he was thrown, without realizing it.

_Why?_

_{Later!}_

_Right, my legs not broken, right?_

_{No your knee’s dislocated.}_

_Remind me how to fix that._

_{Seriously?}_

_I need to be able to stand._

Epsilon guides Wash through pushing his knee back into place, while Maine’s attention is stuck on Tex. His back turned to Wash, when Wash finally stands, pain shooting through his leg.

Wash jumps at Maine, knowing Sigma will likely know he’s coming. No point in trying for stealth. He latches onto Maine’s shoulder, and fumbles to find the release on his helmet. Holds onto it when he’s grabbed again, and flung back to the ground.

_{Hey you got it!}_

Wash shakes his head, trying to clear the dizziness that hits him. Having Maine’s helmet doesn’t accomplish anything, really. Just makes their actual goal easier. He looks up and is struck by how _vacant_ Maine’s eyes are.

The helmet was easy to look at. Associated with the Meta, but no longer Maine. His face his still _his_ , but…

_{Wash!}_

_Sorry!_ Wash gets to his feet, and tosses the helmet at Maine, a momentary distraction. _Think that’ll work again?_

_{Worth a shot! But first his arm!}_

Wash fumbles for the knife on his person, and haphazardly throws it at the arm he hadn’t shot. It embeds between the armor with the familiar sound he’s used to. He jumps at Maine again. Is grabbed by his non-injured leg, and wraps one arm entirely around Maine’s neck in an effort not to be thrown off.

For the first time Wash considers what effect ripping the AI out might have on Maine. But what other option does he have, at this point?

Wash claws at the implants until he gets a hold on the AI chip, and lets go of Maine’s neck. Being thrown does the work of ripping Sigma out of Maine’s implants. Wash lands on his head, brain shaking.

 _{Above you!}_ Wash lifts his arms in front of his head, as a fist connects with them. His armor is all that protect him from a fractured bone. Before he can make any move to actually fight back, he hears the sound of metal hitting flesh. Wash moves his arms, to find Maine on the ground next to him, and Tex standing to his side.

_{Maine’s out.}_

“Uh- Thanks?” Wash sits up, and Tex seems to stare at him for a moment. Like trying to figure out his actions. “Sigma was the one in control,” Wash says. An explanation she didn’t ask for- might not even need- but one he has to give. A reminder to himself, too.

“Right.” Tex offers him a hand, and Wash buries his surprise, taking the help to his feet. “We should get out of here.” She motions vaguely behind them with her head, and Wash is reminded of all the people on the MoI. Of the Director and Counselor up there. And then, without waiting on him, Tex takes off in a run.

 _She’s right._ Wash looks down at the AI chip in his hand. He has the urge to toss it off of the cliff, but something about that feels cruel. Is Sigma conscious in there?

_{We’ll worry about what to do with them later!}_

_Right, okay._ Wash pockets the chip, then glances at Maine. Only a moment, before he turns to leave, too. Not much he can do for him, at this point.

_{Grab the other two, just in case.}_

_You’re not looking for metastability, are you?_ Wash finds Eta and Iota’s chips, where they were originally dropped, before taking off in a run, too.

_{No, I’m not a fucking idiot.}_

_Debatable._ Reaching the treeline, Wash’s adrenaline starts to wear off. Pain shoots through his leg, but he’s used to ignoring pain. (Maybe too used to it, if he gave it any thought.) _Where are we even going to go?_

_{We’ll figure that out when we’re not still right in the project's grasp.}_

When Wash woke, after the Mother of Invention crashed and he was found, he was designated _unfit for service. S_ hoved into therapy that wasn’t effective, primarily because he couldn’t risk being honest about it. Made into Recovery One later, when they deemed him necessary.

He wont be necessary, and he knows far too much. Has done too much _against_ the program, in just disabling security cameras, to be a risk they’d take, anyway.

The next thing he knows about- that isn’t prevented by what he’d just done- isn’t for a while.

Wash…has no idea what he’s going to do.

The conditional family that was the Freelancers is gone, and the non-conditional family of the Reds and Blues doesn’t exist yet. He doesn’t have anywhere to go, other than to run. Alone again- _no_ , he reminds himself. _Not alone_.

_Hey, Epsilon?_

_{Yeah?}_

_Thanks._

_{Yeah, well. I did owe you.}_

_Oh, is that all?_

_{What else would it be?}_

“I wont ask you take care of them. I know you will. So…take care of yourself, Wash. You've kind of got a problem with that.” The last words of the message Epsilon left for Wash, specifically. _What else would it be?_ As much as any version of Church would deny caring, Wash has too much evidence on the contrary to believe it. Others probably had more than he does, even.

_Whatever you say, Church._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this just in i can't write fight scenes. but i'm a ~character drama~ kind of person so uh.......that should be fine.


	4. Leaving things behind.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church leaving people behind is a trend. He couldn’t say that, necessarily, about Alpha. But the memory unit? Him choosing the shadow of Tex over the Reds and Blues? Leaving them behind on Chorus? Twice? That was _him_. And Wash could justify his feelings easily: Church was hurting his friends. Tucker, and Caboose, and even the Reds. And Carolina, the last time.
> 
> It wasn’t as if Wash and Church- any of them- were close. It wasn’t justifiable to be upset at him for leaving _Wash_ behind. (Part of him had always wished Epsilon was just slightly more put together. That they had been able to work together-)

Wash hadn’t really thought about where he was going as he ran, only vaguely aware he went in the same direction as Tex. Epsilon- Chruch, he can call him that now that they’re off the MoI- has gone silent. What _are_ they going to do? Wash stumbles down a slope and finds a small UNSC base. It _looks_ abandoned from the outside, but Tex has crouched at the edge of it. She doesn’t look back when Wash stumbles into place next to her.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting a ship, and getting the hell out of here.” Tex stands. “Keep up or I’ll leave you behind.”

And then Tex is jumping down into the base, camouflage activating. Church remains silent, but directions pop up on Wash’s HUD, leading him after her in a way he can actually follow. Since he doesn’t have active camouflage.

Tex easily makes her way into a the only hanger, and onto a ship. Wash is a full minute behind; sneaking past the few guards in the place, who are all talking about how most of them going off to check on the newly-crashed ship nearby. Tex is already in the pilot seat when Wash takes a seat in the back. He’s still not quite sure _why_ Tex helped him, except that she, too, might have wanted a shot at Maine for tossing Carolina off of a cliff.

There’s yelling from outside the ship the second the engines start, and Wash braces himself for the quick exit the ship makes from the base, and then the planet. Tex isn’t a pilot- and no 479’er- but they somehow manage to lose any following ships. (Not that there were many.) He decides not to think too much about it.

“So.” Tex’s voice draws Wash’s attention instantly. “What was that about?”

“Which part?”

“The security.”

“Oh.” Wash hesitates. He can’t tell her about his future-knowledge- or…can he? He doubts she’d believe him, but other than thinking he’s certified insane, what bad could come of it? He shakes the thought away. “I knew who was on the right side of that.” _You and York,_ Wash thinks. Tex gives a small sound of acknowledgement.

“OK. What are you gonna do now that you’ve done that?”

“I-” That question again. “Get off their radar, first.” Speaking of, Wash suddenly realizes he still has his Recovery beacon active. He knows it can be used for that- Temple proved that. _{Want me to disable that?}_

_You’ll save me the trouble._

_{Done.}_

Temple. Wash knows that right now, the Blues and Reds are still on their bases. The Project will still be active for a while. Temple isn’t a threat, right now. Wont be for a years. But he could preemptively save himself- and a number of other Freelancers- trouble if he…

It would give him something to do, before he can go to Blood Gulch. (Or, rather, before the next thing he has to do before then.)

“There’s something I think I have to…take care of.” Then: “Hey, do you have a Recovery beacon?”

“Probably.”

“You should…disable that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I get the chance.”

Epsilon had said Tex was always doomed to fail, and Wash had seen plenty of evidence of that, but… Wash isn’t sure that’s quite right. Tex and Church seemed to always be pulled to each other, but every failure of hers Wash knew of related to Church. He can’t separate them, but if she knew that, would it change something? Keep her alive?

“What is it you have to do?” Tex turns just enough to glance at him. He can tell what she’s looking at, even without seeing her eyes. The AI chips still in his hand. He pockets them next to Sigma. She turns forward again.

“Nothing to do with the AI. There’s…some simulation troopers I have business with.” Wash breathes a sigh. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with the other fragments.”

Church chooses now to finally appear. He seems, to Wash, to be nervous. Of course. While Wash remembers Epsilon learning to let go of Tex, seeing that from the outside wont magically give him the same thoughts- the same feelings- that future-Epsilon went through.

“Maybe we can find someone for Eta and Iota to help out.” _{Maybe an AI would do Caboose some good.}_

“No faith in Sigma?” Wash’s question is met with a scoff. He has to agree.

“Why’d you even take him?” Tex asks.

“I…don’t really know.” It felt cruel to leave him there. He hates Sigma. Legitimately hates him. In a way, it might have felt good to toss Sigma away, never to be found again. But a part of him couldn’t do it. Because Sigma only exists for the same reason as the rest of the fragments. “It would probably be kinder to…delete him or something.”

“Right…”

“We wouldn’t even be able to trust him with meeting Alpha,” Church says, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that Tex can hear him.

“Were you planning to do that?” Tex’s voice rings with suspicion.

“Nope,” Church says, simply. “Better he can recover away from us.”

“You…know.” Simple, yet it hits Church and Wash both at once. The fragments, at least, weren’t supposed to know.

“I _am_ Alpha’s memories.”

_Is that okay?_

_{Don’t trust her?}_

_That’s not it._

_{I’m not worried about it.}_

_Of course **you’re** not._

_{You’re anxious enough for us both.}_

“So you know everything. Both of you.”

“Yeah.” _And more,_ is left unsaid.

“Now I’m curious: what’s got you going after sim-troopers?”

_Shit._

_{Got any excuses?}_

_No._

_{Shit.}_

“Uh,” Wash says, intelligently. Church’s judgement radiates off of him, but Wash doesn’t see _him_ coming up with anything. “They’re…not a problem right now but…they….might be?”

“Might be?” Tex echos back, unconvinced.

“In the future?”

“Why?”

_I’ve got nothing!_

_{Neither do I!}_

_Then what do we say?!_

_{Fuck it. At worst she thinks we’re crazy.}_

“Wash is from the future.”

“Ch- Epsilon!” Wash turns to Church’s holographic form, disbelief clear in his voice. Tex is silent. Then, after a far-too-long pause, she speaks.

“What. Did you hit your head?”

“Yes.” Wait- Wash shakes his head. “That’s not why-”

“We can prove it.”

_We can?!_

_{I can.}_

_Oh,_ Wash thinks. One small jump, and Epsilon can share that information with her. The memories. Tex must come to the same conclusion Wash has, because she doesn’t respond right away. Then, finally, she sighs.

“Fine.”

A weigh lifts in Wash’s head. Epsilon disappearing temporarily. It should be a relief. He hadn’t wanted an AI in his head again, anyway. For more than just the reasons he’d given when talking about it. More than just hiding information. It was terrifying. Having another mind so close to his own, so able to damage him. Pain nothing else could provide. One he didn’t want to experience again.

But it isn’t a relief. Church’s presence has been…comforting. Because he isn’t alone. Not this time. Not like the last time.

When Wash woke, after the crash, his confusion was mixed with fear. Anxiety. Panic. Where had everyone gone?

Then: why had nobody come for him?

Then: did they worry at all?

Epsilon had been pulled before the crash. Had killed itself in his head days before. But he couldn’t help but add _Epsilon_ to the chorus of names echoing in his mind. Where were they?

Wash woke alone.

The weight is a comfort because he isn’t alone. Yet as seconds tick by, a weight forms in his chest instead. Church and Tex always pull towards each other. Epsilon, even as a fragment, was the same. Especially because of what part he was. He had the _most_ reason, now.

It would be so easy for him to just…not come back. To leave Wash’s mind like he already thought Wash wanted. Even if Tex doesn’t want him there, there’s always place in the ship, until he finds somewhere else.

Church leaving people behind is a trend. He couldn’t say that, necessarily, about Alpha. It was his own actions that took Alpha away from the Blues. But the memory unit? Him choosing the shadow of Tex over the Reds and Blues? Leaving them behind on Chorus? Twice? That was _him_. And Wash could justify his feelings easily: Church was hurting his friends. Tucker, and Caboose, and even the Reds. And Carolina, the last time.

It wasn’t as if Wash and Church- any of them- were close. It wasn’t justifiable to be upset at him for leaving _Wash_ behind. (Part of him had always wished Epsilon was just slightly more put together. That they had been able to work together-)

But he was, wasn’t he? Wash pushes the thought down. Buries the feeling as deep as he can. And when the weight in his mind returns, he prays Church can’t feel it.

“Well that’s a lot,” Tex says. “Kind of hard to believe.”

_How much did you tell her?_

_{I only showed her as much as I needed. It’s mostly your memories.}_

_That’s fine._

_{Oh, yeah?}_

_I know more about her than I should, too._

_{Right.}_

“But, alright. You know what, Wash? I’m going to help you find this Temple asshole.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah I think I remember where that base is. But then I’ve got other things to do.”

That’s fine. Wash knows she goes to Blood Gulch at some point, and that part is definitely important. “Okay. Thank you, Tex.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Then, simply, “Want me to let you know, if I ever go to Blood Gulch?”

A simple question, but the meaning hits him like a truck. It’s an offer. A chance to see his _family_ sooner than he’d be able to normally. Than he could with only his own knowledge of the future to go on. Every one of the Reds and Blues knew her, so by then it should be fine to go.

“I- yeah.”

Church is quiet again, as they land on a small planet far enough away to give them time. Tex manages to get them free space to stay for a few days, in exchange for dealing with some gang-related issues in the apparently only city this side of the planet.

“Want help?”

“Don’t need it.”

Wash knows that. “Not what I said.” Tex gives a half-laugh at that.

“No, you should rest.”

“Okay.”

Wash stays behind, and only decides to actually rest- _sleep_ \- when Church promises to keep watch, and wake him if anything suspicious happens.

 _{We’re in this together,}_ Church says, seriously. Wash takes a moment to process that.

_Thank you._

Wash’s dreams- as they usually are- are memories. Wash dreams of Valhalla, the first month he was there, as a part of Blue team. Tucker’s annoyance, Caboose’s misplaced attachment. Of Chorus, and those things shifting. Understanding, real friendship. Of how both were proceeded by Epsilon leaving them.

 _We’re in this together._ It’s an assurance. A promise. A, _"n_ _ot this time."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my life is a mess so i wrote this last night- you know, the same day as chapters 2 & 3.


	5. The first days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright. Well…let’s get to work then.”  
> “Yeah. I don’t have hands, buddy.”  
> “You’re still going to have to tell me where they are, asshole.”  
> “Wow, what’s the hostility for?”  
>  _“Church,”_ Wash says, exasperated. Glares at him without any real force. He just gets laughter in response.  
> “Okay, okay. Let’s get to work.”

The simulation base Temple should be on is going to be a solid day-long trip to get to, from the planet they’ve landed on. Or, more than that considering how dangerous things are for them, at the moment. No telling where Project Freelancer is going to look for them. So stealth is the best option, and it’s not as if the increased amount of time will be a problem.

First things first, they’re going to need a ship they _didn’t_ steal right after the MoI’s crash.

“Think we can barter for that too?”

“Barter, _sure_.”

“If we threaten them they might tell someone we were here,” Wash reasons. Tex shrugs.

“Not if they know what’s good for them.”

“You gonna come back for revenge if they do?” Tex hums, as if considering this. “Hey how about- give me a chance to get us a ship?”

“You?”

“Am I that bad?” Silence. “Okay, whatever. I’ve done stuff like this before.”

“Alright. I’ll leave it to you, rookie.”

_I was technically around longer than her._

_{Aw, offended?}_

_No._

_{If you say so.}_

They’ve only been there two days, but Wash feels like they’ve been on this nowhere-planet too long. His mind keeps wandering to all that could go wrong, only for Church to not-so-patiently remind him how ineffective Project Freelancer- or the UNSC in general- had been at finding their agents in his own timeline. Most of them were only found by their Recovery beacons going off, much later.

_Yeah but most of their agents didn’t have the living, breathing, bank of evidence that you are with them._

_{Sure, but the Meta had_ **_**most** _**_of their AI.}_

_That’s…fair._

But right now, so does Wash. Well, not _most_ of them. Alpha will be- maybe already has been- moved to Blood Gulch. (He doesn’t actually know when that happened.) Tex has Omega, North still has Theta, York still has Delta. He’s never really thought about where Gamma is. (Maybe he should ask Tex about Omega, while they’re together. From what he knows, they didn’t have the best working relationship.)

So not even close to _most_ of them, but…

_{You’re being paranoid.}_

_Right, right._

Church has a point. There might be plenty of people to look for him, but that doesn’t mean they’ll find him so easily. And to that point, he and Church can probably get out of any situation they find themselves in.

_{Besides, weren’t Tex and Maine listed MIA in the OG timeline?}_

_OG timeline?_

Church continues without acknowledging him. _{And York, “retired.” The Director is more worried about covering things up than chasing people down.}_

_And what I know is a problem for covering things up!_

_{But you just took Maine’s place of stealing AI.}_ Wash doesn’t know how to respond that. _{Okay, listen: he’ll probably assume we’re doing the same thing the Meta did.}_

_He’s going to assume I’m after metastability, not revenge._

_{Exactly.}_

Either way, they still need to find a ship.

_“You don’t have to destroy the past, to have a future,”_ He’d said. And while he’d meant it, Wash had felt like a hypocrite as he’d said it. Because he’d thrown _everything_ away. Old armor and Carolina’s presence the only thing left from his time with Project Freelancer. Because he barely remembered he _had_ a name, before the project. Because a few years prior he’d watched, with fading consciousness, as the Red’s threw the Meta to his death and felt _nothing._

(Felt nothing as the body of someone he’d called friend disappeared over the cliff edge. Felt next to nothing when he was confirmed dead. Had been relieved that the- as far as he knew- only other living Freelancer was _gone_.)

 _“But the past is done,”_ He’d said. _“Now is the only time that’s ever mattered.”_ And he feels like a hypocrite, now, because this is the past. Because he’s changing things, despite what he’d said.

But if he has the chance- knows it _will_ make a difference- he can’t just ignore it. A little hypocrisy hasn’t killed him yet.

“We don’t get many ships coming around here. Even less staying.” Seeing someone out of armor is so _odd_ to Wash, now. Even after his time with the Reds and Blues, who’d he’d expect to be too relaxed about it. Most everyone they've run into on this planet is without it. It doesn’t put him at ease, any.

“But you do have _some_?”

“Most of ‘em are broken. We don’t have anyone to fix ‘em up,” The person tells him, shrugging. Then motions to the hanger across the way. Too full of ships to be particularly safe. “You can take a look if you want. Hey: if you can repair it, you can have it.”

“Right, okay. Thanks.”

_{Do you even know anything about repairing a ship?}_

_Nope._ And Church probably knew that before he asked, but Wash tries not to be annoyed at him for asking. _But if nobody’s around to look at them, it could be something really simple._

The hanger is uncomfortably dark, once actually inside. He ignore the ships with obvious damage, and jumps when light appears at his side. Church only laughs at him _a little_ , crossing his arms and looking around them. As if he can see anything more by doing that than he already could. Wash sighs, and keeps walking.

Finding a ship with no noticeable damage,and prying the entrance to it open takes twenty minutes. He makes his way to the front, and notices there’s little that looks wrong on the inside, either. That’s either very lucky, or _really bad._

The console at the front lights up, when he tries to turn the ship on, but that’s all that happens.

“I…don’t know where to start with this.”

“Once again, you need my expert skills.”

“You’re a ship expert now?”

“I’m a _computer_ expert.” Church shrugs, and disappears at the same time his weight in Wash’s mind disappears. Right: the ships systems might have a diagnostic. “Got it!”

“Something we can fix?”

“Just a few very important wires to repair.”

“That’s…easy.”

“Yep.”

“You’re _sure_ that’s it?” Wash isn’t exactly eager to take a faulty ship into orbit.

“Yes I’m sure!”

“Alright. Well…let’s get to work then.”

“Yeah. I don’t have hands, buddy.”

“You’re still going to have to tell me where they are, asshole.”

“Wow, what’s the hostility for?”

 _“Church,”_ Wash says, exasperated. Glares at him without any real force. He just gets laughter in response.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get to work.”

Getting the ship up and running is surprisingly easy, if tedious. Still, they’re ready to set out by their fourth day on the planet. And while Wash spent his time repairing the ship’s faulty wiring, Tex had gotten them supplies. It only occurs to Wash as they enter orbit, early on the fifth morning, that she doesn’t actually need to eat. All the food rations she gathered don’t serve her any purpose.

“Why’d you collect so much?”

“You suck at taking care of yourself,” she says, simply. Wash wants to argue, but pauses at Church snickering in the back of his head. Traitor.

“Oh- well- thanks,” Wash says, finally.

They weren’t close during the project- really Tex wasn’t given the chance to be close to _anyone_ during it- but they both know more about each other than most people are supposed to. A person Tex doesn’t know, but the impression of which has shaped everything about her. A future of mistakes Wash hasn’t made yet, that formed him. And Epsilon gets to know both.

“Hey, Tex?”

“Yeah?” She doesn’t glance back from her place steering the ship.

“Are you okay with Omega being- uh- there?”

“Why?” Her tone is harsh, distrustful. He can’t be offended, considering she watched him take 3 AI that weren’t his just a few days ago. The weight of them is heavy on his person. 

“Well he’s- uh- you know.”

“Uh huh.”

“But I have Eta and Iota, if you need an AI to run equipment that isn’t- you know- that.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay,.”

_{Pretty sure she can run most of on her own, anyway.}_

_Well it didn’t hurt to offer, did it? It’s not like I have anything I need them for._

_{Oh? Don’t want to give multiple AI a shot?}_

_Don’t joke about that._

_{Alright, sorry.}_

Wash doesn’t mean to fall asleep- used to not be able to, when on a ship- but does about half-way through their journey. Dreams of his earliest days on the Mother of Invention. Eager to earn a place, there. Find something to hold onto in the place he thought was his last chance. Last option. Dreams of the first time his name entered the top 10, and the anxiety of the moment. An anxiety that faded when- of all people- Maine clapped a hand onto his shoulder and gave a small, “good job.”

His dream twists into the desert and watching what used to be Maine with a genuine amount of fear in the back of his mind.

Of the MoI, and Carolina’s exasperated sigh, before asking him if he was okay when Wash returned injured from one of their missions. Nodding, despite the pain. Carolina shaking her head, and telling him to go to the med bay.

Of hearing that, of all the people lost during the crash, Carolina was included.

Of, of, of.

Wash jolts awake. Finds Church and Tex mid-conversation.

“I’m not worried about that,” Tex says, simply. Wash tries to search the place where his mind meets Church’s for any idea of _what_ she’s not worried about, but comes up empty. It does make Church’s floating form turn to him, though.

“Oh look who’s up.”

“Sorry,” he says, without really thinking. “What are we talking about?”

“Well-”

“Nothing,” Tex says, effectively cutting him off.

“Okay?” Wash stands, moving to look out the front of the ship. In the distance, he can see a planet approaching. “Is that it?”

“Yep.” Tex nods. “Ready?”

“Of course.”

_{I said she was gonna get attached.}_

_To you?_

_{To us both.}_

_Doubt it._

_{You never know. We have the Blue-team charm.}_

_What does that even mean?_

_{Charismatic dumbasses. Except I’m- obviously- the smartest person from Blue team.}_

_Technically_ **_**you** _**_were never on Blue team. And you’re definitely as dumb as the rest of them._

_{Fuck you. Don’t exclude yourself.}_

“We’re landing!” Tex’s voice makes Wash jump. She glances at him shortly, and he pushes down the embarrassment he feels at being startled.

There are more important things to focus on, for now. Like how much he’s looking forward to punching Temple in his face.

_{I thought you were going to kill him.}_

_I’ll beat him to death._

_{Jesus. Get therapy.}_

_He deserves it._ Even though it hasn’t happened yet. Something twists in his chest, but he can’t quite place the feeling. There’s probably moral questions raised about going back in time to before someone did something bad, and punishing them for that thing. Wash doesn’t want to think about it. He’s not thinking about it. He wont think about it.

Temple technically hasn’t done anything yet. Wash shakes his head, and the thought away with it. Too late to be thinking about it _now._ When he’s already here. When he’s already dragged Tex here, too.

The ship lands about a mile away from the simulation bases.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> confession: this isn't actually the *very specific* rvb au that i have. this is like.....#2 au, but it's also the one that seemed.........  
> more like something others would wanna read, I guess? the other one is way more specific than this.  
> anyway i finished this chapter in the middle of the night so!


	6. Crimes that cannot be forgiven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temple is unremarkable. An almost generic appearance. Someone Wash wouldn’t remember, under normal circumstances. The face is burned into his mind as he takes a step back.

The trek to the bases gives Wash too much time to consider the morality of what he’s doing. Carolina- in the future, at least- would say they only kill when they _have to._ To a point, he agreed. He was- is- not proud of the person he was, before. Who was willing to kill people just because they were in the way, when it wasn’t necessary.

But it’s _Temple._ Who killed multiple Freelancers, tried to kill Wash and Carolina, locked the Reds and Blues up, lured them out with false hope of getting back their friend. Wanting revenge on someone who hurt you was one thing- unhealthy as it might be, Wash would be a hypocrite to say not to- but Temple went after people who had nothing to do with it.

Or…he will, if left to his own devices.

_{Not to late to turn around.}_

_No._ The thing is: Wash doesn’t actually feel any sort of guilt over the idea. Of going after Temple now, despite the fact Temple likely hasn’t done anything yet. He thinks, maybe, he should. But he doesn’t.

That’s really what bothers him, he realizes as the bases come into view.

Two bases, on opposite ends of an otherwise empty place. Just like every other Simulation base. It’s easy enough to picture the Reds and Blues there. Standing around, talking, getting into trouble despite the lack of anything to do.

He used to think very little of them.

“So,” Tex says, drawing his attention. “Since this is your little revenge plot, what’s the plan?”

Wash glances back at the bases, noting which one- the left- is Blue base. “I guess…find Temple. I don’t really care about the others.”

“So what happens to them doesn’t matter?”

“Ah- well-” Wash shrugs. “Loco isn’t actually that bad, so I don’t want to hurt him.”

_{Because he reminds you of Caboose?}_

_Because he helped him out, despite working for Temple._

“And Loco is?”

“Regulation blue.”

“Alright. Let’s get started, then.” Tex activates her active camouflage. Wash tilts his head, a silent question. “Two Freelancers showing up at the same base at once would definitely make them contact command.”

“Right, okay.”

“Lead the way, kid.”

_Why does she keep calling me that?_

_{Probably to fuck with you.}_

Wash starts his way down to Blue base. He briefly considers that they could, actually, go for stealth, but dismisses the idea. No way to be stealthy while beating Temple to death.

_{I thought you were joking about that.}_

_I haven’t decided yet._

Wash realizes he doesn’t actually remember most of the Blue and Red’s names, as he approaches. The Blue that isn’t Temple or Loco is posted outside the base, seemingly entirely unconcerned with the idea of being attacked. To be fair: that was reasonable. He does jump, when he notices Wash’s approach.

“Oh, what the hell? What are you doing here?”

“Command sent me,” Wash says, easily. “Where’s your leader?”

He groans, annoyed, before responding. “We didn’t ask for another fucking Freelancer. He’s inside.”

“Okay.” Wash moves past him, and into the base. That was easy enough, but he’s not sure why he expected anything else. Knowing better than to underestimate Simulation Troopers normally, doesn’t mean these idiots are a threat. And certainly not one right now.

Temple is in the process of shoving Loco out of the bases other exit, when he comes into view. Temple stops, upon seeing Wash arrive, though Loco does leave.

“Freelancer?”

“Yes,” Wash says, tone carefully neutral. “Command-”

“We didn’t request any help.”

“Right, well, they sent me anyway.”

“Yeah okay, you can just…leave then. We don’t even want the Red’s flag.” He spits the word _flag_ like it personally offends him. Maybe it does? Wash doesn’t actually remember enough about what happened to turn Temple into- well- _Temple_ , to come to a conclusion on that.

_We’re clear, right?_

_{Probably.}_

_Probably?_

_{If someone notices they’ll have to deal with Tex.}_

_Good point._

“So you can leave,” Temple says, voice strained. Oh, right. Wash has been quiet too long to be normal.

“Not yet.”

“Look-” Wash grabs Temple by his helmet- “What-” and slams Temple into one of the bases walls, head first.

_{Oh a solid 2 there.}_

_What?_

_{You know, like judge scores.}_

_Only a 2?_

_{Could have been cooler.}_

“What the fuck?!” Temple fumbles for his weapon. Wash finds the release on Temple’s helmet, first, pulling it off. Temple is unremarkable. An almost generic appearance. Someone Wash wouldn’t remember, under normal circumstances. The face is burned into his mind as he takes a step back.

He looks so genuinely afraid. For a moment Wash wishes he’d left the helmet on. A bullet could still kill him just fine, like that. For a moment, he actually feels bad. Because Temple doesn’t know what’s going on.

_I am not feeling bad for_ **_**Temple.** _ **

_{He’s got his gun.}_

_I’m_ ** _ **not.**_** Wash moves out of the way when Temple lifts the sniper. Not exactly the best weapon for their distance, anyway. _He’s a horrible person._

Temple manages to fire once, and Wash startles out of his thoughts when it manages to hit his helmet. His radio crackles into nothing in his ears. Wash steps forward, towards Temple again.

 _{Wash?}_ Wash easily wrenches the gun out of Temples hands, tossing it aside. Temple yells for help, and Wash lands one solid punch to his head, right in the temple. Knocks him right to the floor.

Temple is the kind of person who would go after someone who had _nothing to do with what happened._ Wash takes a step back.

He wants Temple dead. There’s no question in him on that, no hesitation. But he doesn’t reach for his own weapons.

 _{Wash?}_ Church repeats, more concerned.

_I'm fine._  


(“You were ruthless,” Locus had said. “I was a different person,” Wash had said.)

He’s hurt people for less than what Temple will do if left alone.

Wash grabs his pistol, and fires once. That’s all it actually takes, anyway. Temple slumps entirely to the floor. Wash wonders briefly if anyone else in these bases are capable of doing the same things Temple would.

Turns and leaves his body there. The other one who’s name he doesn’t know is unconscious outside, and Tex leans against the wall.

“Took you long enough.” The, _did the Simulation Trooper give you trouble,_ is implied by her tone. Wash shakes his head.

“Sorry about that.”

  


_{What the hell was that?}_

_What was what, Church?_

_{With Temple!}_

_I don’t know._

_{You don’t know?}_ The disbelief- the doubt- is clear in his tone. Wash sighs, glancing over to where Tex is piloting them away from the planet again. _{Or you don’t want to think about it?}_

_I’m just realizing for the first time what changing things means._

_{Do you…want to stop this?}_ Stop changing things. Stop trying to fix things. Stop blaming people for things they haven’t done yet.

 _No._ Wash thinks with certainty, for the first time since arriving in the past. _This is better than letting what happened before happen again._

_{If it was anyone else, I think you wouldn’t have done it.}_

_What?_

_{If it was anyone but fucking_ **_**Temple** _ ** _, you wouldn’t have been able to do it. You’re not that person, anymore.}_

_You think so, huh?_

_{I know. Or else you wouldn’t have hesitated there.}_

  


The next place they end up isn’t that far away. Wash muses over his broken radio, and if that’s going to be a problem for him while sitting on the floor of the ship. Tex is talking to someone on her own radio, but he’s making a conscious effort not to listen to it. Tex said that once Temple was dealt with, she had other things to do, so he can guess it has something to do with that.

_Wonder if she’ll take the ship._

_{We were the one’s who got it.}_

_But if Tex says, “I’m taking the ship,” would we try to stop her?_

_{I hate that you’re right.}_

Wash tries to think of what little he knows of Tex’s actions, in his own timeline. What was she doing at this point? He would have assumed her and York were still working together, but she’d left the MoI crash without him. _Did you let Tex know Carolina was alive?_

_{She’s in too many of your memories from Temple’s base to not.}_

Wash jumps when there’s a knocking sound on the side of the ship. Tex stops what she’s doing, and Wash gets to his feet quickly.

“Hey, you can't park this here.” A voice from outside the ship calls. All tension in Wash disappears in an instant at it.

“You’re such a fucking idiot,” Tex says. The ships bay door lowers to reveal York, barely in view from inside the ship. “We were just on the radio.”

“Which is how I found you.” Wash can practically _hear_ the grin in his voice. He steps onto the ship, followed by another, larger figure. He motions to the other with his thumb. “I brought a friend.”

“Maine?” Wash speaks, for the first time. York makes his way over to Tex, continuing conversation, probably. Wash’s gaze stays locked on Maine. The weight of the AI chips on his person has never felt heavier. _Don’t be the Meta. Don’t be the Meta. York wouldn’t have brought him if he was. York has Delta, the Meta would have attacked him._

Maine’s response is a noise that isn’t words- can’t be- but a confirmation all the same. He raises one hand, in a simple motion that even if Wash didn’t know ASL, he’d likely recognize. “Thank you.”

“For…what?”

“Sigma.”

“You’re not- you’re you, right?” A nod. “What were you two doing together?” Wash turns to look behind him, at York and Tex. York shrugs.

“We met up after the crash. I was supposed to meet up with Tex nearby, but.” But Tex had taken Wash to go after Temple, instead. “When I filled him in, Maine asked to come with me.”

“This reunion is nice an all,” Tex starts, voice laced with sarcasm, “but it’s about time I hit the road.”

“In space?”

“I _can_ kill you.” York laughs in response to that, seemingly unconcerned. “You’re ready to go, right?”

“Of course. I’m a professional.”

“Then lets go.” Tex seems to glance around the three of them. “What about you two?”

Maine shrugs. Wash stops to consider this. He knows it’ll be a while before he actually _has_ to do anything, but he still isn’t sure what to do until then.

Except, he thinks, maybe he does. If he still wants to take down the Project, then he’s going to need evidence other than just Epsilon. He’s not about to give up Epsilon and his memories, at this point. He’ll need something else.

_{The Director kept logs.}_

_So we hunt some of those down._

_{Sounds like enough of a plan.}_

“I’ve got evidence to look for.”

“Oh, going into the detective business?” York asks, teasing.

“Something like that.” He also needs to figure out what to do with the AI he’s still carrying around. He knows where Carolina will be, soon, maybe-

York thinks Carolina is dead. Or at least that she was reported dead. Does he know how that happened? Would he have brought Maine with him knowing that?

“Alright,” Tex starts, “I’m taking this ship, then.”

_See._

_{Oh shut up.}_

“Right, okay. Hey York can I talk to you before you leave?”

“Uh, sure?”

York and Wash step off of the ship for a moment, and Wash considers how to tell York that Carolina is alive. How to excuse the fact he _knows_ that.

“Well?”

“Carolina is alive.”

“What?” His voice is surprisingly soft. Wash briefly wonders if he thinks Wash would lie about that. “You seen her?”

“No, but I know she-”

“Because I already bet she could have- would have been able to make it out of there.” It sounds more like he’s reassuring himself of this, than anything else. Wash nods. “So I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“No I know- factually know she’s alive.”

“How?”

 _How?_ Wash hesitates. Telling Tex was one thing. She was convinced because Church had the evidence of Wash’s future knowledge. That wont work the same with York. _{The grappling hook. How she survived.}_ “She had her grappling hook. And she was still conscious.”

“Right.” York shifts weight from one leg to the other. “See, I knew there was a way.”

There’s still disbelief in his tone. “Carolina’s too good to die like that.”

“Obviously.”

“Well- uh- see you…later?”

“Right. Take care of yourself.” York steps back onto the ship, and Wash remains outside. He’ll have to find some other way to get where he’s going. That’s fine. He can stowaway if he really needs to. York stops, then leans back out to yell at him. “Hey, list the channel DINNER5682.”

“What?!”

“Secret ex-Freelancer channel,” he mock-whispers. “I’ll send you the code in.”

“Okay…thanks?” Wash’s HUD lights up with the code only a second after York disappears onto the ship.

_{Yeah I hate to remind you that your radio is broken, but your radio is broken.}_

_We can…figure that out later._

_{Okay. More importantly: who decided to name the ex-Freelancer channel Dinner?}_

_York?_

_{Well yeah it had to be him. It wasn’t a real question, dumbass.}_

_Don’t ask dumb questions, asshole._

_{I need you to picture something for me. Very important, okay? I’m flipping you off.}_

_You know you could_ **_**actually** _ ** _do that if you wanted?_

_{Damn, you’re right.}_ Church appears in front of Wash just long enough to flip him off.

“The maturity is staggering.”

  


The ship containing the others takes off, leaving Wash behind for the time being.

“So,” Church starts, appearing again. Wash wonders why he bothered to retreat in the first place, if he was only going to come right back. “The next thing we know the actual date of to deal with isn’t for two years. Is that all evidence gathering?”

“I don’t know. Depends on if anything I don’t know about comes up.”

“So…getting out of here first?”

“Getting out of here first.”


	7. Company

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s like being in a warehouse where the boxes have been knocked off the shelves, strewing their contents haphazardly through the place. He can try to separate and organize his own memories into one section, but any journey through their minds risks stumbling into or over memories that don’t belong to him. None of this helped by the memories of the Alpha that he’s pushed into one corner, or their copies somewhere within Washington’s memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is........longer  
> i didn't notice until i was at the end
> 
> also..........epsilon perspective

Finding a way back to the only planet they know for sure might hold evidence they need takes months. They start, firstly, by getting a ride on a supply ship in exchange for a meager amount of manual labor. This only gets them so far- not nearly where they need to go- but it’s a start. The rest of the journey is spent either bargaining for rides, or stowing away. During this time Epsilon is surprised to find that Washington’s sleep is barely- if at all- affected by his presence.

The other Freelancers had been regularly kept awake by their AI- this is something even the Freelancers without AI were aware of- but Epsilon notices very quickly how little effect he seems to have. Whether that’s due to Washington’s already poor sleep, or…

While he tries not to pry into Washington’s memories, outside of what he’s already seen, sometimes he stumbles into them. It’s like being in a warehouse where the boxes have been knocked off the shelves, strewing their contents haphazardly through the place. He can try to separate and organize his own memories into one section, but any journey through their minds risks stumbling into or over memories that don’t belong to him. None of this helped by the memories of the Alpha that he’s pushed into one corner, or their copies somewhere within Washington’s memories.

Epsilon finds that the explanation for the anomaly of Washington’s sleep schedule is contained in memories void of Epsilon entirely. And while he probably should feel guilty looking into the memories, he finds the explanation worth it. While Epsilon's too-active mind does make it more difficult to sleep, it also provides a strange sense of safety. One almost equivalent to what the other members of Blue team would provide, by the time they were on Iris. (Memories from before then show this shift slowly. From it being dangerous to wake next to them, in case of flashbacks, to it being the best case scenario, because he calms instantly.)

In any case, this doesn’t mean that Washington sleeps _well_. Just that he sleeps _at all_. Epsilon still finds that he has to force Washington to actually go to sleep, half the time. (More than half, really.) Promises of keeping watch, and trying to pull back from his mind as much as possible.

At the moment, Epsilon has dedicated a portion of himself that might just so-happen to hold his- read: Washington’s- memories of Theta to checking motion-trackers every 5 seconds on the dot. He’d only managed to get Washington to go to sleep this time by promising as much, though looking at him it might not be obvious he’s asleep. Sitting beside a row of boxes on the supply ship they’re stowed away on. Knee’s up to rest his arms on them, head resting on his arms. Unable to see his face, he’d likely look perfectly awake. Epsilon briefly thinks that it’s not really necessary to look awake, since Epsilon is perfectly capable of waking him before anything happens.

And that brief thought takes less than a millisecond to process. Time is something he’s aware he processes faster than Humans, but not something he ever feels bothered by, until he’s faced with silence. He’s dedicated parts of himself to checking different things, constantly, but it still leaves him…bored. (One part for the motion trackers, one part for Washington’s vitals, one part for the ships movements.) There’s not enough to keep his mind active, but he’s promised both himself and Washington not to log off, in order to keep watch. Epsilon doesn’t mind, necessarily, he just wishes he wasn’t- well- alone.

Epsilon isn’t dumb enough- he tells himself- to want Washington having another AI in his implants. He knows that’s a bad idea. But his armor also has place that could hold a fragment. Epsilon wont mention that either. He can handle a few hours of boredom in exchange for not making Washington regret keeping him around.

 _|Guard!|_ Epsilon jumps, despite that fact it’s his own check alerting him. Sure enough, there’s a routine check for the supply area happening. They’re on the side opposite of where the guard is- and behind boxes- so he is gentle in his waking methods. A light push on the spot where his mind meet’s Washington’s, until the other startles awake. A small jump, halted halfway, before he stills himself.

_What is it?_

_{Company. A guard.}_ The guard stops at every row of boxes, likely checking for anything wrong- or any stowaways- before moving on. _{They’ll notice you if you move. Armor.}_

_So?_

_|Aren’t they far enough?|_ One part of him argues. Another- that sounds suspiciously like his memories of Delta- supplies another idea. _[Moving when the guard does will cover the sound. They’re wearing armor as well.]_ Epsilon considers this for what feels like a few seconds to him, but is no time at all to Washington.

_{I’ll tell you when you can move without being heard.}_

_Okay._

There’s barely any space between the highest boxes and the ceiling, just enough to fit a person, were they laying down. _{Trust my judgement?}_

 _Sure._ It’s said- thought- dismissively, but Epsilon is perfectly capable of picking up the actual certainty in it.

 _{Climb up there.}_ Epsilon directs Washington’s attention up, then puts a small marker on his HUD. _{Blue means go.}_

 _You can’t just tell me?_ Wash moves as the marker changes from red to Blue, beginning his climb. Pauses immediately when it changes back.

_{This is easier for you.}_

_Is it?_ Epsilon doesn’t respond. Washington makes it to the top of the boxes as the guard passes the row before it, and moves onto the one Washington just climbed out of sight of. A pause, then the guard turns around, heading back to the exit.

 _{Alright, you’re safe.}_ Epsilon tells him, when the guard has entirely exited the supply area. Washington drops back down to the floor as quietly as he can.

_Thanks, Church._

_{It’s what I’m here for,}_ He dismisses. Epsilon still hasn’t decided if he dislikes being called Church, or not. It separates him distinctly from, “the AI that broke a part of Washington’s mind,” and he’s not bothered about it being the Director’s name. People have the same name, all the time, even when not related to them. That part’s easy enough to ignore, because nobody they care about uses that name for him. What worries him is the Alpha. The one who the Reds and Blues will know by that name. The one who even Washington did, originally.

 _< They wont call you Church, once you’re there>_ He thinks. Pushes that thought down and stores it in the same corner he stores Alpha’s memories. He can live with that. The _< wont need you>_ is harder to ignore.

_Hey, you okay?_

_{Huh?}_

_You seem distracted._

_{I’m fine.}_ Sometimes Epsilon forgets that as much of Washington’s mind as he can see, the opposite is true. Even if he can’t hear the exact thoughts Epsilon is having, he can feel him thinking them.

_Are you sure?_

_{Yeah, don’t worry about it.}_

_Okay…_

The ship they were on drops supplies to the currently-abandoned bases of Valhalla without actually checking the need for supplies there. They must be set up automatically to happen every so-often, without checking if the supplies are being used by anyone. Epsilon and Washington get off the ship along with the boxes being left there. Right next to a bunch of other boxes, also having been left there without thought.

“What a waste,” Washington says, blandly. Epsilon appears, specifically so he can shrug in response. “Well, think we can figure out where exactly we’re going from here?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Epsilon waves a hand dismissively. “If nobody else is going to use these supplies-”

“We’ll need some way to bring them with us.”

“Maybe one of the bases has a vehicle?” Nevermind that they’re currently not in use. If they’re still getting supplies, they might still have vehicles. Washington nods in response. He starts towards what would be Red base, were it in use, first. Epsilon tries- and fails- not to laugh at him for doing so on instinct, because the Red’s were usually the ones with transportation.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

_Like a kid saying, “I’m not touching you.”_

“I’m only a few months old,” Epsilon reasons. Washington rolls his eyes.

They do actually find a jeep stationed at not-red-base, though it wont start. It has power- obvious by the fact it turns on- but it wont move. Land vehicles _are_ something Washington has a general understanding of, so puts it in neutral and pushes it back towards their supplies.

“Don’t want to check Blue base first?”

“Don’t want to have to walk back to Red base if there isn’t anything.” Washington’s explanation is halfhearted, but he ends up being right. There are no vehicles at not-blue-base. “Think you can figure out the problem with the jeep?”

Epsilon makes a noise, unsure. “Maybe? You’ll have to put me there, though.”

“What?”

“Your radio is busted, I can’t just jump around.”

“Oh.” Washington pauses, considering. Lifts a hand to his neck, likely without even realizing it. His hesitation practically drowns the spaces where their minds meet. For someone who was so against having an AI in the first place, he sure worried about removing his. Epsilon considers this, and finds a solution that might have just as much hesitation, but wont require removing Epsilon.

“You could use one of the others, instead.”

“What?”

“The other fragments.” Epsilon’s tone goes softer. Understanding his hesitation for this suggestion more than the other. Washington reaches for where he keeps the other AI chips, holding them out in front of him once he finds them. They all look the same, and they both realize at once that they should have separated Sigma from the other two.

“You sure are set on the idea of using them,” Washington says, quietly. Epsilon hums in response. “Why is that?” There are more questions buried under that one. Do you want to talk to them? Are you worried about them? Do you feel bad leaving them like that? Then, further down, concerns about his wants that tie back to the Meta.

“I don’t sleep,” Epsilon says simply. There’s a long pause, before the warmth of understanding covers the hesitation. Someone who’s spent so much time awake, alone, when others weren’t around can understand the simplicity of the statement.

 _You’re lonely,_ Washington thinks, not really directed at Epsilon. At the same time a part of Epsilon’s mind clarifies the statement for himself, _|You’re lonely.|_

“I’m bored.” Epsilon’s argument doesn’t change anything in either of their minds.

“Any idea which one’s Sigma?” Washington asks, instead of arguing about Epsilon’s loneliness. Epsilon shrugs, and points at one of them.

“Probably not that one.”

“You just guessed.”

“Can you prove that?”

“I can if it turns out to be Sigma.” But Washington picks the chip up, and lets Epsilon guide him through connecting it to the Jeep’s systems. Considering the vehicle wasn’t made for it, they have to do a bit of rigging and rearranging wires, but it works. A full 0.6 seconds later, Eta appears.

“See I told you,” Epsilon says. Washington rolls his eyes again. Eta looks between them: silent, nervous. Epsilon is briefly reminded what part Eta was, while Washington pockets the other two again.

Finally, Eta speaks. “What happened?”

“Oh.” Epsilon glances at Washington, who shrugs.

“You fill him in while I figure out what we have?”

“Sure.” Epsilon nods, and starts filling Eta in on what he missed. Dedicates a part of his mind to keeping track of everything Washington finds, going through the supply boxes. It doesn’t take much attention to do so.

Eta listens, carefully, as Epsilon explains what happened. About Carolina- Eta’s worry practically radiates off of him until Epsilon clarifies she’s okay- and Sigma and Maine. Then on to where they are, and why.

“So you need…me to figure out what’s wrong with the jeep?”

“If it’s something you can find. We can check the engine if it’s not.”

“Okay.” Eta nods, and then is gone. Epsilon leaves him to it, joining Washington next to the supply boxes.

“Done?”

“Yep. He’s checking the Jeep.”

“Okay.” With that, Washington returns to taking stock, and Epsilon muses over Eta’s presence.

Eta is Alpha’s fear, so his nervousness is something understandable. (He’s also Alpha’s courage, in the way that you cant have one without the other. That, along with his happiness- his hope- leaving with Iota, left only memory.) It’s what defines him. It’s why Iota and Eta’s combination worked even while with a Freelancer. They balance each other, due to their respective roles. By himself, Eta would need someone capable of doing something similar for him.

Epsilon thinks, had the AI been assigned normally, Eta would have been the one given to Washington. Between Eta and Iota, Iota was more suited to deal with South. And…Eta and Washington probably would have worked.

Would have. The Agent Washington of Project Freelancer would have worked with Eta. Able to handle Eta’s nervousness, and push through it with him. Capable of being a comfort, and burying his tendency for anger, just like he did his entire time there. Easier back then.

They wouldn’t work now, Epsilon thinks. The Washington that came to be, after Epsilon, definitely wouldn’t have been able to deal with Eta. The Washington now might, but it wouldn’t be the same. Wouldn’t _work_ , in that way.

Epsilon wonders if they- if he, himself, and Washington- even do. Or if he just thinks so because the overlap in their memories made the process of being in sync easier.

“I’ve found the problem!” Eta’s voice draws his and Washington’s attention.

“Oh, great. What is it?” Washington asks. Eta relays the problem- _another_ wiring issue, Epsilon shouldn’t even be surprised- and Washington nods. “Thank you-”

_{Eta.}_

“-Eta.”

“You’re welcome!” Then, quieter. “Can I stay here?”

Washington startles at the question, then slowly nods. “If you want to.”

“Okay.”

_Is he okay?_

_{He’s just like that. Probably worried we only brought him out because we needed him.}_

_But we did,_ Washington thinks. Epsilon doesn’t want to think about that. They would have given him somewhere to go- somewhere to be- when they had the chance. They weren’t planning on just keeping the AI fragments forever. And while there was a mutual concern about what to do with Sigma, if anything, Eta and Iota didn’t deserve to be…abandoned.

“So- uh- point me in the right direction?” Washington says, finally. Eta nods, quickly, and starts directing him to the problem.

_(Epsilon knew what had happened. Epsilon knew why he’d been pulled, what he’d done wrong. But they wouldn’t just leave him here, would they? They wouldn’t just…_

_{Help us. Help us. Help us. They tortured us.}_

_…Washington had said he’d help. Said_ I’m sorry. _Said_ I’ll make them pay. _Said_ I’ll help you.

_But Epsilon couldn’t stay together. Couldn’t stop breaking. And they’d pulled him. He knew that. He knew that. He knew-_

_Washington would help them. He’d said so.)_

Epsilon doesn’t know what he’d felt, in Washington’s timeline. But he knew what Washington remembered, of it. Of the memories that hit him, and the pain, and Epsilon’s removal. Of promising that the Director and Counselor, and Sigma, and Omega, and Gamma wouldn’t get away with it. Knows that Washington had thought Epsilon erased, and only found him years later. Knew enough to guess.

He’d have thought himself abandoned. Just like Washington had after the Mother of Invention crashed, and nobody came for him. He'd wondered how many people would have come, had they known. Epsilon wonders how long Epsilon would have been left, had Washington knew.

They have a vehicle going, and supplies ready by the next day. This leaves just one problem: while they know there’s somewhere to find the Directors logs on this planet, they don’t know exactly where.

Well…Epsilon should, but…

_You don’t know?_

_{I…}_

_The Alpha might have known, right?_

_{Yeah.}_

_So…_

_{I- yeah. I just have to find the memory.}_ Just look through the Alpha’s memories. The ones he’s stacked in a corner, because he doesn’t want to look at them. Because he’ll have to dig through them- and all the things that caused him to almost unravel- in order to find what they’re looking for.

_You don’t have to._

_{What?}_

_If you don’t want to. We can try something else. There’s probably information on places belonging to the Project somewhere._

_{No. It’s fine. I can do it.}_

_Epsilon-_

_{I’m serious. Just give me a while.}_

_Okay._

Epsilon dedicates himself to sorting through the Alpha’s memories. In the background he can hear Washington ask Eta if he wants to go back to Carolina, when they find her. Focuses his entire attention to sorting through memories instead of listening for a response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the rvb fandom wiki shows eta as the yellow one and iota as the blue one but my brain refuses to accept that so.....  
> if i ever describe either of them i'll probably do the opposite fair warning. (also is that ever clarified by an official source or did someone just decide that?)


	8. The perspective of the companion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re fine,” Epsilon says. _We’re._ Epsilon is the only AI, there, so he must mean Agent Washington, too. Another pause, where they glance at each other. Silent communication. Eta wonders if they’re doing it on purpose. Leaving him out of the conversation. Or if that’s just easier for them. He often didn’t _voice_ thoughts to Iota. But they aren’t like himself and Iota, so that would be weird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short intermission for Eta................

Eta was aware of time passing outside of the AI chip, though unable to process it the same way as usual. It was but seconds between _*Something is wrong. Get up. Get up. Something is wrong,*_ and Iota’s reassurances of, _*We’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. Agent Carolina will get up,*_ to their mixed thoughts of, _*_ _wait- don’t pull us-*_ to somewhere else, alone.

Not alone, exactly. Eta doesn’t recognize Epsilon, exactly, but can come to the conclusion by other things. The only AI fragment he hasn’t seen is Epsilon. Epsilon was assigned to Agent Washington, who is also there. Thus: Epsilon.

It takes less than a second to realize Eta is attached to a jeep. That Iota isn’t there. That Agent Carolina was attacked, and Eta and Iota would logically have been taken by Agent Maine. (Sigma, more likely. Made more sense.)

For that portion of a second, Eta is afraid. “What happened?”

Eta listens, and calms with the explanation. Agent Carolina is safe. Iota is safe. Sigma isn’t a danger, and Agent Maine would not hurt them without Sigma. Epsilon knows something, Eta figures that out. Something that he wont say, about Project Freelancer, but whatever it is must be bad. Eta doesn’t want to know. It’s okay not to; the Project doesn’t matter. If the Director did something, and they want to bring justice, then Eta doesn’t mind helping.

Eta just doesn’t want to be alone. Misses Iota, but Epsilon and Agent Washington are okay company, for now. They say, “If you want to,” when Eta asks to stay.

Eta and Iota have never been apart. They were, “born,” together, and they were not separated when they were assigned to a Freelancer. They were meant to be, but they never were. They’ve always sort of blended together, so Eta never minded. Being alone is…strange. Being without Iota is strange.

Eta and Iota never really…talked to Agent Carolina. She listened when they helped her, and she told them what she needed, but they never talked. So Eta doesn’t feel that different without her, but he still worries. But he was told she was okay. They wouldn’t lie to him about that.

Epsilon and Agent Washington must talk. Because they look to each other, before they speak. Because they change posture and pause and Epsilon huffs in annoyance before disappearing. And Agent Washington sighs, before turning back to Eta.

Eta wonders if, in the case he sees Agent Carolina again, she’d talk to him. If she’d talk to Iota. They hadn’t been together, long. Maybe there was time they hadn’t had before the crash, that was needed for that. It’s only been months since then- so he was told- but surely Epsilon and Agent Washington were different to Eta, Iota, and Agent Carolina. That didn’t mean it wont happen with time for them too.

Eta is good at shoving anxiety away, but usually Iota is the one who does it for him.

“Would you want to go back to Carolina, later?” Agent Washington asks. Eta considers this very seriously.

He doesn’t know. Eta doesn’t know what other Freelancers- what other people in general- would be like to share spaces with. What if he said yes, but it turned out they just weren’t meant to work together? Sometimes people just didn’t work together, right? That’s why others weren’t like himself and Iota. Couldn’t blur the lines between people, when they agreed.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” It’s said seriously, softly. Eta nods.

“I don’t know.” An honest response. Worry creeps through him. Is that a bad response? Will it be taken negatively? Will he assume Eta dislikes Agent Carolina?

“Okay. You have time, and you might figure it out.”

“Okay.”

And then in a few seconds, something happens. It’s a quick thing. Agent Washington stumbles, grabs at his chest, and Epsilon returns, gasping despite not requiring air.

“I found something!” Epsilon practically spits out the words, and then the two are calm again. At least they look it. Eta can’t help but think something must be wrong. Is there something wrong with Agent Washington? Or is Epsilon having a problem? Could he do anything, either way?

“Are you okay?” Eta asks, finally. It feels like forever, but it’s only been approximately 2.04 seconds. Epsilon takes a deep breath- unneeded, why is he doing that- and nods.

“Yeah. Just had to look for something.”

“But it looked…painful?” They don’t really experience pain, necessarily. Not the way a human would. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t things that _hurt._ Something feels like it's shifting, out of focus, for a second at the thought. And then he’s fine.

“We’re fine,” Epsilon says. _We’re._ Epsilon is the only AI, there, so he must mean Agent Washington, too. Another pause, where they glance at each other. Silent communication. Eta wonders if they’re doing it on purpose. Leaving him out of the conversation. Or if that’s just easier for them. He often didn’t _voice_ thoughts to Iota. But they aren’t like himself and Iota, so that would be weird.

“We’re going to be traveling,” Agent Washington finally says.

“Okay,” Eta says, nodding. They’d fill him in if it was important, right? Or is it to do with the thing Epsilon knows that they don’t tell him? Maybe he’s not supposed to know. Would feel bad to.

“Want to drive?” Epsilon asks Eta, and Agent Washington says, _“Church,”_ harshly. Epsilon laughs. Eta feels like he's missing something.

“I’ll drive,” Agent Washington says. Eta nods again.

“Okay. I can make it easier.”

“Thank you, Eta.”

There’s a few moments spent putting supplies into the three unused seats of the jeep, before they set out.

Eta asks Epsilon, during the journey, “do you enjoy working with your Freelancer?”

Epsilon responds easily, automatically, “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Oh. Do you not want to?”

“I don’t mind it.”

“If you don’t like it, wouldn’t you want someone else to do it?” Eta and Iota were both functioning. He’d understand not trusting Sigma. Doesn’t trust Sigma.

“No.” The word is harsh. An immediate, strong reaction.

Eta doesn’t really get it. If he doesn’t like working with Agent Washington, then why would he want to? “Oh. Do you like Agent Washington?”

“Huh?”

“You’re friends?”

Epsilons pauses long enough for Agent Washington to notice, despite their conversation taking place at a speed he isn't able to process.

“Are you two…okay?”

“We’re fine!” Epsilon responds, immediately. This time the pause seems to have a conversation happen between the two.

“If you say so,” Agent Washington says, finally.

“Yes.”

“Huh?” Eta returns his attention fully to Epsilon.

“We’re friends.”

“Oh! I see, that’s why.”

“I- yeah, sure.”

Eta wonders, briefly, how that happened so quickly for them. Maybe some people found it easier. He’ll ask Iota’s opinion, when he has the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, at 3am: "i know exactly what to do for the next chapter, and even how to phrase paragraphs"  
> me, actually writing: "how many times is too many times to use the word says"


	9. A choice that's made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorting through Alpha’s memories is something Epsilon logically knows how to handle. He’s already experienced them all. They can’t surprise him. He just has to push aside any that aren’t what he needs. Don’t look at them too long.
> 
> Actually doing that isn’t the same. Epsilon may be an AI, but he’s human enough. That was why he exists, in the first place. Why any of the fragments do. And because of that, sorting through painful memories isn’t easy. Isn’t simple. Isn’t something he can do without any concern. Logically knowing, “this is in the past,” and, “I’m safe now,” and, “I was lied to, those were lies,” doesn’t mean he wont be affected by them. Doesn’t mean they wont hurt.

Sorting through Alpha’s memories is something Epsilon logically knows how to handle. He’s already experienced them all. They can’t surprise him. He just has to push aside any that aren’t what he needs. Don’t look at them too long.

Actually doing that isn’t the same. Epsilon may be an AI, but he’s human enough. That was why he exists, in the first place. Why any of the fragments do. And because of that, sorting through painful memories isn’t easy. Isn’t simple. Isn’t something he can do without any concern. Logically knowing, “this is in the past,” and, “I’m safe now,” and, “I was lied to, those were lies,” doesn’t mean he wont be affected by them. Doesn’t mean they wont hurt.

But he pushes through. Even when his nonexistent lungs feel like they’re going to burst. He can’t breathe, but feels out of breath. Nonexistent chest aches with the weight of, “I messed up.” Of, “They’re dead and it’s my fault.” Of-

 _“Alpha, copy these logs to-”_ Epsilon feels like he’s come up for air, when he latches onto the memory. Drags it away from the rest of Alpha’s memories and clings to it until it becomes solid. Exactly what they’re looking for.

_“Yeah, okay. You’ve got company.” Alpha copies the logs as instructed, before logging off while the Director goes into conversation with the Counselor._

“I found something!” Epsilon spits, gasping as he flickers into existence next to Washington. He calms just in time to notice Washington clutching at his chest.

“Are you okay?” Eta asks, after a moment. Epsilon startles, remembering Eta is there.

“Yeah. Just had to look for something.” They’d decided not to tell Eta about everything. Specifically about how the fragments came into existence. Eta is already Alpha’s fear, no need to put more on him. Epsilon knows how badly that can affect them, if they’re not careful. They’ll have to address it, eventually, but not right now.

“But it looked…painful?”

“We’re fine,” Epsilon says, without really thinking about it. Then he has the realization he’d said _we’re._ He takes a moment to check, and finds that Washington does seem to be fine. Physically at least. Vitals don’t account for mental damage.

_I’m fine._

_{I knew that,}_ Epsilon says, but he’s relieved anyway. _{I found our first stop.}_

 _Okay._ And then Washington turns to Eta. “We’re going to be traveling.”

It turns out, Wash discovers, he can’t drive for days on end without rest. Not normally, and especially not with two AI who are, quote, “worried,” when he tries. So they stop to rest at least once a day, on their journey, and he tries to remember that they have plenty of time. Nobody is likely to come after them, and there’s years between now and when they next need to do anything.

He can’t help but think about how different traveling with Epsilon and Eta is, in comparison to the Reds and Blues. He’d gotten so used to them- complaining, arguing, but generally being entertaining when not entirely stressful- that traveling without them is unsettlingly silent. Wash had assumed he’d adjust. He’d been traveling with just Church for months, now, and that had been oddly quiet too. Not to say Church doesn’t keep a running commentary during their journey, but it’s different.

And he’d done this before. Traveling on his own. Being on his own.

Maybe he was too different now. Had lost whatever had made that so easy for him. Or gained something he couldn’t have missed before.

_{Jesus, if you’re just gonna sit there and brood we can keep going.}_

_I’m not brooding._

_{That’s something a brooder would say.}_

_What the hell does that even mean?_

_{That you’re brooding.}_

_I am not._

_{Mhm. If you say so.}_

At least, he figures, he’s not entirely alone. “Okay, let’s keep going.”

“Okay!” Eta’s response is immediate. Wash keeps forgetting he’s there. Keeps not knowing how to interact with him. ”Are we getting close to where we’re going?”

“Yeah. Just another…seven hours?”

“Seven hours,” Epsilon confirms. _{Eta will have to wait outside.}_

_Can’t bring a jeep in?_

_{You can try if you really want.}_

“Are you not going to rest in the middle?”

“Huh?” Wash blinks at Eta.

“If what we’re doing is important you should be well-rested when we get there.” There’s a hesitance that Eta speaks with that Wash can’t quite place. If Eta is unsure of what he’s saying, or worried about the response he’ll get, Wash doesn’t know.

“Okay. I’ll stop at four.”

“Okay!” Eta brightens- in a non-literal way- at the response. Wash leans towards the latter explanation. Can understand. Remembers the first few months at Blue base, and how everything he said felt like a risk. One wrong move and they’d want him to leave, and he’d caused them too many problems to argue if they did.

“We going or what?” Epsilon’s words get Wash out of his thoughts.

“Right, yeah.”

Tex maybe, kind of, regrets not considering Wash’s offer when it came to Omega. She had thought she’d be fine. Be able to deal with him because she’s already done so for long enough. Is he a problem? Sure. Is he enough of a problem to make him someone else’s problem? She didn’t think so.

Didn’t think so, but she was reconsidering that. Epsilon being able to use the radios to travel had sped Omega’s understanding of the process up, and it quickly was becoming an issue. York is unsettled, Delta is as annoyed as he’s willing to show himself being, and Maine…didn’t handle it well.

York and Delta’s reaction was bad enough. Delta had been the one to shut down York’s radio, once Omega had left him. York had tried to play it off like it wasn’t that bad, but after the second time it happened he no longer managed that. Maine’s reaction was worse. Because Omega wasn’t able to get Maine to do what he wanted. That should have been a good thing, but watching as Maine panicked, looking ready to rip the implants themselves out, hadn’t done anyone any good.

The thing is, Maine didn’t really use his radio, anyway. Couldn’t except to listen to them. There are other ways to communicate, and it wasn’t as if they did much talking anyway. They worked surprisingly well together, even without their radios. (Tex had assumed they wouldn’t, considering the first time they’d met, during that training match. York was a different situation, considering he wasn’t Maine or Wyoming, and hadn’t brought out live ammunition. But Maine was, outside of that, generally easy to work with.) The problem was how increasingly obvious Maine’s discomfort was, because of her AI.

Tex has to seriously consider what the best course of action is, and it becomes obvious quickly. Them turning their radios off was one thing- easy enough, not too much of a problem- but that didn’t undo the bigger problem. Omega was starting to get to her, too. Though Tex could handle it- really, she was already looking for ways to get rid of him- her actions were starting to be affected, and that was bothering them just as much.

So the solution was the go their separate ways.

“Don’t be afraid to find me if you need my expert skills,” York jokes- though it is a genuine offer- before leaving.

“You assume I’ll ever need your skills.”

“Hey you can’t say that when you’ve already asked for my help before.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tex shakes her head. “Just take care of yourself.”

“Aw is that concern?”

“Absolutely not.”

Maine follows after York after giving Tex a solid pat on the shoulder. Had it been any other situation, she wouldn’t have allowed it, but it was a echo of York’s words, from Maine, in a way. So she’d allow it this once.

Now, Tex wonders what she’s going to do about Omega. As much as she’d love to just set off an EMP too close to him, that wouldn’t do her any good, considering it would affect her, too. Not exactly what she’s going for.

“This is it?” Wash asks, as they arrive outside of the building Church has lead them to. The outside of the facility is rundown, to start with. Something he hadn’t really expected, considering how early they were arriving at it.

“Yes this is it, what else would it be?” He doesn’t have eyes to roll, but Wash is pretty sure Church is rolling his eyes.

“It just doesn’t look…in use.”

“Yeah well would you leave your secret illegal activity logs in the obvious place?”

“Good point.”

“This is a Freelancer facility?” Eta asks, looking around them. “Are you going inside?”

“That’s the idea,” Church says, then pauses. “Oh- uh-”

“Eta, will you be okay out here for a while?” Wash asks. Eta shifts nervously, but nods.

“Okay. I’ll watch the vehicle.”

“Thank you.”

“Happy to help.”

_{Can he even be happy?}_

_What?”_

_{He’s Alpha’s fear and sadness.}_

_And you’re his memory, but you feel things._

_{Fair enough.}_

They drive the jeep as far as they can, before going to find the actual entrance. It’s hidden- as any good secure facility’s entrance should be, apparently- in a wall.

“So,” Wash starts, “Where’s FILSS?”

“That would be…” Church trails off, before pointing a little further to their left, at what looks like a tree. A few steps in that direction makes the panel attached to it obvious.

“That cannot be safe, right?”

“Well it lasts quite a while, so it can’t be that bad.”

“Hello.” Wash startles at FILSS voice, despite having expected it. “This is a private facility. Visitors are not welcome. Please leave immediately, or we will be forced to take lethal measures to ensure the safety of our property. You have 30 seconds to comply, or die. Have a nice day.”

“Wow, what a warm welcome.”

“Hey, wait, FILSS it’s me…the director?” Church struggles to get the words out, not that Wash can blame him.

“Oh my, the Director. I am so sorry. I did not recognize you, sir. You look very different.”

“Yeah- uh- I got...a makeover.”

_A makeover?!_

_{I don’t know!}_

“I see. How may I assist you today?”

“Yeah- you can let us in to the facility, to start with.”

“Certainly.” And like that, easily enough, a part of the wall moves away to reveal the entrance. It’s what he expected, but it’s still a reminder of just how secretive the whole Project was- is. “Please watch your step.”

“Thanks.” The inside of the facility is basically exactly what Wash expected. Lots of equipment- primarily for simulation bases- and not much else of note.

_So, where are those logs?_

_{In a terminal somewhere, probably.}_ Church takes a moment, where Wash can practically feel him debating looking for it himself.

_Hey you didn’t already forget my radio is busted, did you?_

_{Fuck. I mean- no?}_

_Sure, I believe you._

_{Asshole.}_ Church breathes an audible sigh, for good measure. “Hey, FILSS?”

“Yes, Director?”

A mental flinch at being addressed as that only delays his response by a second. “Yeah, can you remind me where the nearest terminal is?”

“Of course. It is just upstairs, to your right.”

“Thanks, FILSS.”

They makes their way up to the terminal. The silence of the facility feels strangely unsettling. It’s not an in-use facility, likely meant to be a backup, in case something happens, but seeing everything just sitting there unused is odd. Wash can’t help but think about what else might be in the building.

“Hey,” Church starts, startling Wash. It takes a second to realize he’s not talking to Wash. “Are there any storage devices in the facility?”

“Yes. This facility is, after all, meant to be a backup, in case something happens to the main base of operations.”

“Right- yeah. Can you load up all of the- all of _my_ journals and logs?”

“Certainly.”

“And point us in the direction of a storage device.”

_What are we doing?_

_{Well I could copy all of it but then we’d still have the issue of_ **_**me** _**_having all of the information we need.}_

_Oh, right. Okay._

One trip through the facility to get a storage device later, they’re copying all of the directors logs and journal entries onto one. They end up copying a lot more- profiles and any other information they can get their hands on from here- before they’re done.

“Alright, is that all?” Wash asks, when they finish copying information on other bases. Church shrugs.

“Probably. We should go.”

“Director, if I may, would you like to make a journal entry, before you go?”

“Oh- uh-” Church fumbles for a response.

_Just say not right now._

“Not right now. Actually, FILSS, can you erase records of this visit?”

“Are you sure, Director? It’s a security risk to erase records of visits. And you’ve copied a lot from this facility that could pose a security risk to the Project.”

“Yeah, no, I’m sure. It’s- uh- safer. These are…backups in case someone else finds this facility.”

“I see. Then I’ll delete the records of your visit once you leave.”

“Thanks.”

_Where to now, then?_

_{We should find somewhere to hide this. I don’t want to chance losing it.}_

_Good point. Maybe we should make copies of the copies._

_{For now let’s just get out of here. I don’t think I can take being called the Director much longer.}_

_Okay._

Once they’re outside of the facility, and back at the jeep, Eta greets them. “How did it go?”

“We found what we needed,” Wash says, simply. “Thanks for waiting-” Wash stops. Realization setting in, as he stares at Eta.

“What?” Church asks, when Wash’s pause goes on to long.

“We could have grabbed another storage unit.” _One that could hold an AI._ Sure it was more of a risk to carry an AI like that than in implants, but they don’t have to worry about the Meta, right now. And it couldn’t be any more dangerous than Eta being in a jeep. They’d have space for Iota, too.

“Shit you’re right.” _{Should we go back?}_

“Do you need a storage unit?” Eta asks, clearly confused. Missing the pieces that would make what Wash has realized obvious for Eta.

“There are storage devices that could hold an AI fragment,” Wash says. No point hiding this from him.

“Oh.” Eta is silent, though seems to be considering something. “If it’s dangerous you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Are you…sure?”

“Yes. Iota will understand.”

“And you?”

“I’m okay. Unless you’re…not going to need the jeep anymore?” They might not, Wash realizes. It’s probably safer to find somewhere else to go, now. Something else to do. To keep moving, so they’re harder to find.

_{Let’s go back.}_

“Eta.”

“Yes?”

“We’ll be right back.” And they’re rushing back to the facility. Asking FILSS to let them in again. Grabbing multiple storage devices. Asking FILSS to erase records of them entering, again. Then rushing back to Eta. Wash slides to a stop beside the Jeep. “We’re back.”

“Welcome back.”

“We got the storage units,” Church says, as Wash dumps them into the drivers seat. “Tired of being a car, kid?”

“Kid?” Eta asks. “I’ve been around longer than you.”

“It’s an emotional thing.”

“If you say so.” Eta shakes his head. “I don’t mind it.”

“The kid thing or the car thing?” Wash asks, as he gets one of the devices ready for storage.

“The car thing.” Wash hums in response to that. “At least until we have to leave it behind.”

“Okay, you can stay there until then.”

“Great.”

“Now,” Wash starts, pulling out the other AI chips, “what about these two?”

“We don’t know which is which,” Church points out. “Any clue, Eta?”

“The chips look the same.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“Can Sigma do any damage from a storage unit?” Wash asks, carefully.

_{He can if he figures out how to leave it on his own.}_

_Then what’s our plan, here?_

_{I guess…we just have to be quick if it turns out to be him.}_

_Fine, okay._

Wash chooses one of the chips at random, and starts the process of transferring the AI from it to Storage without the AI, themselves, doing it. It’s a bit more complicated, but manageable.

“Hello.” Is Iota’s simple greeting. The word hasn’t been so relieving in- well- maybe ever. “What’s going on?”

“Iota!” Eta’s voice brightens in a way Wash hadn’t heard the entire time they’d been traveling.

“Eta!”

Eta goes to explaining things to Iota, while Wash finds himself staring at the remaining AI chip. They know for sure it’s Sigma, now. It might be luck that he’s the last one remaining, but it doesn’t really solve the bigger issue of what to do with him. He couldn’t just set an EMP off so long as Epsilon is in his head.

_{Stop that.}_

_Stop what?_

_{You’re trying to figure out how to deal with this entirely on your own.}_

_Then what should_ **_**we** _**_do, Church?_

_{I don’t know. Get rid of him.}_

**_**How.**_** Wash stresses the word as much as he can, with only thoughts. How do they get rid of him? If they were going to just throw him away, they already would have done it.

_{You’ve rigged storage devices to be one-way before.}_

_That was an entirely different kind of device._

_{And you’ve got me, this time.}_

_So you think we should…trap him in a storage device? Is that any better than just throwing him away?_

_{I don’t know! I’m just trying- I’m-}_ Pain shoots through Wash’s head. He stumbles, clutching on the side of the jeep. Tunes out Eta and Iota’s reactions, and grabs at his helmet.

A situation with no correct solution.

_It’s okay. It’s fine. We don’t have to figure it out right now._

_{It shouldn’t be this complicated.}_ Shouldn’t be this difficult to decide what to do about someone they both hate. _{Destroying the chip would work since he can’t leave it.}_

_Destroying him that way, instead of how I did last time?_

_{Exactly.}_ It’s a simple solution. Just get rid of the problem right now. It isn’t like they could effectively convince Sigma not to do what he wants to, if they didn’t. The only option they really have is just that. Wash hadn’t thought twice about setting the EMP off, when he’d faced the Meta. Hadn’t hesitated. So what was the point of keeping Sigma’s chip, now?

Wash drops the AI chip to the ground. Eta and Iota’s voices drown in the ringing of his head. This is their only option. Epsilon’s agreement covers the space where their minds meet. In one motion, he crushes the chip with his foot.

“What-” Iota’s voice finally breaks through the ringing. Church’s follows, giving explanations so Wash doesn’t have to.

Eta’s voice rings with concern, when he speaks next. “Is Agent Washington okay?”

“He’s-” Church stops. _{Are you okay?}_

_Why wouldn’t I be?_

_{Yeah, good question.}_ Why wouldn’t he be? It hadn’t occurred to him, before, how easy that would be. The AI always felt…more permanent. Something about the simplicity of it unsettles him. It had been more difficult to deal with Temple than Sigma. As long as the AI were unable to jump on their own, they were easy to get rid of.

 _I need to fix my radio._

_{I’m fine as long as you’re-}_

_If something happened to me-_

_{Don’t fucking start with that.}_ The harshness of the words startles Wash.

He remains silent for a long moment. Can’t find a response until he settles on something simple. Easy. _Okay._

“We should go,” Wash says. The first response he’s given Eta and Iota since Iota “woke up” so to speak.

“Right,” Iota says, hesitant.

“Are you okay?” Eta asks, just as hesitant.

“I’m okay. Sorry.”

_I should still fix my radio._

_{Yeah. I guess.}_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my terrible brain decided i would only have motivation to write the other very specific rvb au and i had to force it to refocus on this one.  
> hence the delay. (I think i'll actually let that motivation take hold anyway, now.)  
> hopefully the chapter length will make up for it?


	10. Coversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here’s how the sixteen months following the copying of information goes:

Iota has a lot of question. Iota generally has a lot of question. Knowledge is something they appreciate, enjoy, and questions lead to answer. Iota has a lot of questions, starting with, “what’s going on,” when they wake. The answers come from Eta, and Iota is happy both for those, as well as knowing Eta is okay.

Iota has a lot of questions, and they become less _happy_ , when Agent Washington destroys the AI chip holding Sigma.

_*Why did that happen?*_

_*Could that happen to us?*_

_*What’s the limit, before that’s the course of action?*_

_*Why hadn’t Epsilon stopped him?*_

Eta shares these question, Iota knows even without communication. Epsilon explains, says Sigma couldn’t be trusted, wasn’t safe to be around, was _dangerous._ What qualifies as dangerous, Iota can’t help but wonder.

“Is Agent Washington okay?” Eta asks. Epsilon starts to answer, but stops short. And after a long silence, Agent Washington responds. Says they should go- leave where they are- but Iota can’t help but think, _*neither of them answered.*_

Instead of voicing this, Iota says, “right.” Gives agreements because the limit isn’t clear. They start traveling but Iota can’t help but wonder how long this will last.

There must be some sort of malfunction, Tex thinks, because command- read: the dumb AI VIC- contacts _her_ of all people to go to Blood Gulch. She had expected that she’d end up there, eventually, due to both what Epsilon showed her, as well as her own worries in regard to Alpha, but being directly contacted was not what she was prepared for. She was AWOL, and had- as far as they were concerned- already tried to steal the AI. Surely they wouldn’t have contacted her purposefully.

Tex’s immediate thought is: _this is a trap._ That’s her immediate thought, but she can’t figure out what the purpose of that would be. She knows what the Director is like. What he’s _capable of_ , and what he’s not willing to do. The “risks” he considers not worth taking. It doesn’t add up. And she survives longer than this, so Tex decides it’s worth the risk, on her side.

As she said she would, Tex tries to contact Wash before she gets there. To give him the chance to show up with her. But she can’t reach him, and he doesn’t respond to her attempts to ping him, either. Something must be wrong, but there would have been rumors or outright news had he been caught but the UNSC or Project Freelancer. He can take care of himself, she figures.

Tex has more important things to worry about than whatever happened there. It’s unlikely he’s dead, so its fine. She has a bunch of idiots to meet.

She’ll consider not killing them, since they have a history. (Future? Point still stands.)

Tex was prepared for what Alpha would be like now. Prepared for the results of his recovering psyche, and to go along with whatever he thought was going on. He thinks they’re ex’s? Sure, she can deal with that. Doesn’t mind, really. It’s better than what _other_ people have thought she was.

Tex does, however, wish she’d been informed he’d think he was a _fucking ghost._ How had Epsilon even managed to hide that, with the memories he showed her? Or did he not know that either? Wash had met him, so he must have known too.

“You’re not surprised by any of this?” Church asks, obviously surprised that she isn't. Tex holds back a sigh, because she already decided to go along with whatever he assumed. Easier that way. Better for his road to recovery. (And it’s better that he’s already not how he was before. Not so tired, so confused, that he couldn’t bring himself to do anything.)

“No. It pretty much all makes sense.”

“Not even the whole _C_ _hurch is a ghost_ thing? That didn’t do anything for you?”

“I can see right through you. It’s pretty obvious.” Unless you knew he was an AI.

Tex has a sneaking suspicion this is going to be…well, what was probably standard for the Reds and Blues of Blood Gulch. Maybe it’ll be fun.

Here’s how the sixteen months following the copying of information goes:

Finding a safe place to make another copy of the logs, and hiding the original somewhere they don’t think anyone will look. (That being a nice, uninhabited, moon named Iris. They have to steal a ship to get there, but it’s worth the effort. This process- while the war is still going on- takes five months on its own.) Then delivering the new copy of information to the UNSC anonymously. They can’t expect if the UNSC will speed up the progress of making everyone involved in Project Freelancer considered criminals, but it’s a start. The Simulation Troopers will be fine, either way. The UNSC considers them UNSC trainees, not specifically Project Freelancer involved.

Wondering why Eta and Iota seem so uncomfortable, and not addressing it. (They didn’t seem particularly bothered by their storage units being haphazardly stored where an enhancement is supposed to go. The space in his armor is unused, and safer than pocketing them.)

Getting some work as a mercenary, and trying not to think too much about the other mercenaries he knows. (Who don’t know him yet.) Refusing a job for a loan shark to send a message, because it’s not the kind of thing he wants to do, firstly. And secondly, Epsilon seems worried about what Eta and Iota would think of it. They were supposed to work with Freelancers on missions that were much worse, but he has to agree on that point.

Not fixing his radio.

Getting on the bad side of some weapons dealer because Wash refuses to take his _generous_ offer for work that involves a lot of indiscriminate murder. (A job meant to make people think they need more to protect themselves, and go to the dealer. Common practice in general, but especially during wartime. Wash isn’t a fan, and he’s done enough dirty work as is, for Freelancer.)

Thinking about how Freelancer isn’t likely to see any consequences until the war is over.

Being chased off of a planet by the aforementioned weapons dealer, despite the fact he likely could have dealt with whatever they threw at him. Wasn’t worth the effort, or the chance of drawing attention to himself.

Jumping onto a supply ship as it’s taking off, and barely managing to get inside before they enter orbit.

Listening to Epsilon tell him how absolutely _stupid_ a plan that was. Listening to Eta and Iota question if his sanity was in tact. Listening to Epsilon say that the Reds and Blues influence on him was _way too obvious_ after that stunt.

“Hey I was fine.”

“That doesn’t mean it was a good idea!”

Getting caught on said ship, as it neared landing on some planet, and jumping out when guards start shooting at him, landing on a building nearby. His armor lock saved him from broken bones, activated by Epsilon, who is even _more_ upset by the stupidity of that plan. He ends up way too bruised up to do any work, though. His lack of healing unit means he has to live with it, until he heals normally.

Not fixing his radio. (He means to. He keeps meaning to. But something else is always more relevant than trying to find out what’s wrong, and then finding the parts they need to fix it.)

Finally addressing Eta and Iota’s obvious worry at the end of these sixteen months.

Iota likes to know things. It makes them happy. And information- facts- are a good way to ease Eta’s anxiety. If they know for a fact something is okay, then Eta will calm. It’s a balance, of course. Eta’s worries account for Iota being _too_ optimistic.

Eta doesn’t mind not knowing things. Eta just wants to know the important things. The things that mean life or death. Friend or enemy. Whatever Epsilon and Agent Washington don’t tell him, he can live with not knowing, if he doesn’t have to. Iota’s curiosity will probably get to them, though.

And neither of them can deny that not knowing exactly what went on with Sigma’s destruction was getting to them. Facts that could mean destruction or survival. Facts that could mean calming or chaos for Eta’s mind.

So when Agent Washington asks, “what’s bothering you two?” Eta doesn’t know how to answer, other than the truth. The blunt version of what they’re thinking. Eta’s worries. Iota’s questions.

Simplified into Eta’s response. “You destroyed Sigma.”

“Oh.”

“We weren’t sure what that meant,” Iota says. “For us.”

“I wouldn’t-” Agent Washington pauses for a whole 0.8 seconds. “Sigma was dangerous. Had done- would do some really awful things. Hurt people, like he had Carolina.”

“What’s the limit?” Iota asks. Eta and Iota aren’t connected, like they were before. There’s still the separation from being in different storage units. But Eta still knows what Iota is thinking. _*What’s considered bad enough to justify that.*_

“There’s- that’s- Listen. I’m not going to destroy either of you.”

“Why not?”

“Why not?!” Agent Washington’s voice raises in pitch, a sure sign the question has startled him. “Because you two don’t _want_ to hurt anyone, right? Not if you don’t have to?”

“No,” Eta says, for them. Iota nods.

“That’s why. Sigma didn’t _care_ about anything except his goal. He wouldn’t have cared if people died.”

“Was it necessary?” Eta asks, softly. Agent Washington stares, obviously confused by the question. Eta pushes down worry at being unclear. Just rephrase, he can do that. “Destroying Sigma?”

The pause this time is 3.6 seconds. “Yes.” But he doesn’t sound sure.

“Okay, alright guys, is that it?” Epsilon cuts the conversation off, with his appearance. “Great. Now it’s about time the human sleeps.”

“The human,” Agent Washington repeats, blandly.

“The human.”

“Alright.”

Epsilon, Eta, and Iota have created a nice routine, when it comes to the ex-Freelancer. When it was just Eta and Epsilon, they’d both stayed active and spent that time together. With Iota, now, they’ve- Eta and Iota- combined their efforts to get Epsilon to log off when Agent Washington is resting. Makes resting easier for him, though Epsilon still always seems reluctant. Eta doesn’t know why, exactly, but maybe he would just rather manage everything himself. (Or does he worry they wont be able to handle it? That they wont want to? Neither of them _dislike_ Agent Washington, or want something bad to happen, though.)

Epsilon has kept very careful track of the amount of time they have, and how long it will take to get from where they are at any given moment to where they’re going. In short: he knows when they have to start making their way somewhere, to get there before something happens.

In the timeline Washington is from York dies, entirely unrelated to the Meta, approximately two months from now. Or, rather, that's when his recover beacon activates. It will take just short of that long to get there, from where they are now.

_{Hey, it’s about time we start moving.}_

_Already?_

_{We were traveling for more than six months, before we got to the Freelancer facility. And it’s been sixteen months since then. We don’t have a lot of time left before then.}_

_Okay, okay. Let’s get going, then._


	11. Changing Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Dammit, jam! Cover, cover!” Something sinks in Wash’s gut, and he moves before York can.  
> “Got it! York stay there or I’ll shoot you too!” Wash fires as he moves forward and to the right, to get to more cover. Wyoming must not be prepared for Wash to do this, because it takes him a millisecond longer than it should to fire at Wash. Still manages to hit him in the left shoulder, but nothing fatal.  
> “Since when do you give orders?”  
> “Right now!” Wash pushes a hand against his shoulder. That probably would have been fatal, if Wyoming had known who was going to move. _{Keep pressure, I can’t do anything about that.}_  
>  “Are you hit?”  
> “Just once, I’m fine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it here

The last time Wash was here, the place had been- in theory- already abandoned. Sure _someone_ was there, but whatever use it had was gone. What had happened there was over by the time Wash got there. Whatever happened between York and Wyoming that ended in the former’s death didn’t really matter, in the end. Just that it had happened.

What Wash doesn’t expect is that when he gets there, before that could have happened, the place _already_ looks abandoned. Nobody looks to be around, though he knows better to trust that. There aren’t any vehicles waiting outside or signs of life anywhere he can see from outside the fortress.

But _something_ happens here, and they must be there somewhere.

“Any signs you can see?”

“Nothing on your motion trackers,” Church says. “But you’re also pretty far away, could just be out of our range.”

When Wash made his way though the base, the first time, it had been simple. No locked doors or anything to stop his progress, and everyone had been dead. Or at least _looked_ dead. He has to doubt it’ll be that simple, but he can’t wait until something happens. It’ll be too late by then.

“Then I guess we just have to go.”

“Guess so.”

Lock picking isn’t exactly at the top of the list, when it comes to abilities he’s confident in, but he knows enough. He _had_ been the backup, when York was injured. (Not that he actually ended up doing it.) Holographic locks, however…

“You know, I think I get it now.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. But at least this isn’t _my_ profession.”

When there’s no movement for days, Tex starts to worry. Either the place is abandoned, or they’re prepared. Bunkered down. She’s about to voice this thought to York and Delta, when the first movement in days happens. She might not have noticed it, if she wasn’t very specifically watching for movement. Or maybe she would, but it wouldn’t have been as obvious.

“Is that Wash?” York voices her own thought before she moves to say anything about it.

“Looks like it.”

“Why’s he here?”

Tex can think of a few reasons. Either he also has some business with Wyoming or something really bad is supposed to happen here. She figures he doesn’t want her outing his status as a time-traveler, and is pretty sure neither York or Delta would believe that. So she’ll have to at least act like she thinks it’s the former.

“Guess he has some business with Wyoming too.”

“Should we try to let him know we’re here?”

“Doubt he’d notice.” Tex shrugs.

“You think?”

“He hasn’t responded any time I’ve tried to contact him after we last saw him.”

“Alright. So what’s the plan?”

“I was going to say we go now anyway. Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

“You’d think between the four of us this would be easier.” Wash pushes one piece of the lock to the side, and when that doesn’t set off any alarms, breathes a sigh. Eta and Iota watch over his shoulders. “Is it too late to apologize to York about this?”

“Definitely,” Church says, blandly. “Turn that piece.”

“Got it.”

“And that one.”

“Yeah, okay.” Eta and Iota disappear, but he doesn't really stop to consider it.

“Don’t move that- and now you’ve got to start this cylinder over.”

“For f-”

“Hey, need some help with that?” Wash jumps, spins, and lifts his gun before he can process who’s voice that is. “Whoa okay, you’ve got it, I get it.”

“Have you considered not sneaking up on someone who’s trying to be stealthy?” Wash eyes York, who shrugs. _You didn't warn me about anyone._

_{I knew you'd be okay.}_

_Thanks for the confidence I guess._

_{Oh no, I just made an educated guess on who it was.}_

“You were trying to be stealthy?”

“Alright, kids, can we get through here or what?” Tex’s voice draws Wash’s attention.

“Tex?”

“Surprised to see me?”

“Kinda.” Wash shrugs, and steps aside, motioning from York to the lock. “You’re the professional, here.”

“Finally some respect.” York steps towards the lock, while Wash steps back next to Tex. “Hey wasn’t this supposed to be encrypted?”

“Is it not?” Tex asks, glancing shortly away from the entrance to look at him.

“It’s holographic.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yeah, hence the two names.”

“But you can open it?”

“Yeah, it’s just much harder. I just brought it up 'cause I wanted you to realize how kick-ass I am.”

“I’m convinced, now get to work.”

_{Is he always like that?}_

_Basically._

Tex subtly motions Wash over, far enough that they can speak without York hearing, but not so far it’s suspicious.

“What is it?”

“Why are you here?” Tex’s question is simple, the answer less so. Wash glances back at York, for a moment. He’s having a conversation with Delta, apparently. Too preoccupied to notice Tex and Wash’s conversation.

“In about twelve minutes, his recovery beacon goes off. And an hour after that…I recovered Delta.” The _only Delta_ is implied. Tex pauses, glances between York and Wash once, then nods.

“Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen.” Tex looks back to the entrance to the area, watching for anyone else. “Any idea the numbers we’re looking at.”

“At least four. I mean- I assume Wyoming is already here. Could have been more if they got knocked off.”

“Wyoming, huh?”

“He was pretending to be a body like the son of a bitch he is.”

“Noted.”

“Alright,” York says, finally. The lock disappears, and the teleporter makes a short whirring noise as it starts up.

“Okay I’ll take lead.” Tex steps forward, past them both. “We’ll stagger entrance, okay? Wash, fifteen seconds then follow. York thirty. Sync?”

“Sync,” they both echo, at once. York says something to Delta, while Wash watches the seconds tic by on his HUD. Provided by the oddly-silent Church. _You good?_

_{Just focused. Don’t worry.}_

_Okay._

On fifteen, Wash steps forward and right into a firefight. He dives for the nearest cover, immediately. “Sitrep?”

“Five of them at three six and three O!”

“That many?” Wash whispers, then shakes his head. _Focus_. Those numbers aren’t much, for three Freelancers. Except that one of them is also a freelancer. _{You need to move.}_

 _Yeah I know._ Wash jumps from cover, and rolls behind a pillar. Leans around to fire just as the thirty second mark hits, and York arrives.

“Dead one at three, one down, cover my thirteen!” Tex shouts, then updates York on the situation, when he asks. Wash leans from cover again to fire, hits one in the leg, but misses anything fatal.

“My accuracy shouldn’t be that bad. Church?”

_{It’s your weapon. Damaged when you jumped out of a ship like an idiot. Here follow my marks.}_

_Could have told me sooner._

“Y, stop thinking!” Tex’s voice it loud enough even without his radio for Wash to hear. “Go low!”

“Copy.”

“Wash, cover!”

“Copy!”

“Next reload.” Tex begins her reload. Then, through speakers, “copy.”

Delta gives Mark.

“Mark!” Tex, York, and Wash repeat. Tex jumps out of cover, firing. York follows, on the other side, diving. Between the three of them, they make quick work of majority of them. Of course, that means something has to go wrong. But then, he knew that.

“Dammit, jam! Cover, cover!” Something sinks in Wash’s gut, and he moves before York can.

“Got it! York stay there or I’ll shoot you too!” Wash fires as he moves forward and to the right, to get to more cover. Wyoming- it must be him- must not be prepared for Wash to do this, because it takes him a millisecond longer than it should to fire at Wash. Still manages to hit him in the left shoulder, but nothing fatal.

“Since when do you give orders?”

“Right now!” Wash pushes a hand against his shoulder. That probably would have been fatal, if Wyoming had known who was going to move. _{Keep pressure, I can’t do anything about that.}_

“Are you hit?”

“Just once, I’m fine.”

“Target’s reloaded,” Church says, appearing next to Wash. There’s a brief moment where Wash can’t quite hear, but can feel him thinking about the human body as a system. Blood loss, and the most effective way to slow it.

“Epsilon,” Wash says, warning. “Help me account for my injury?”

“Yeah, yeah done.”

“Grenade!” He doesn’t bother to pull the pin before he throws it, he doesn’t really need to. He’s done the same thing against locus, a simple distraction. He can hear Tex and York communicating, but can’t make out any of the words without radio or speakers, at this distance.

Wyoming fires. York leans out of his cover, firing and hitting the gun. It’s not enough to knock it out of his hands or make it useless, but it’s a solid distraction. Long enough for Tex to get past him without him noticing.

“Don’t move.” Tex’s voice- stern, warning- means they’ve done it. Wash pushes the back of his shoulder against his cover, putting pressure on the back side since he can’t with his hand.

York glances at Wash, but Wash can’t really tell _what_ he’s thinking though his helmet.

“Tell me where Omega is and don’t play dumb with me.” Tex’s words startle Wash. He jumps, only for pain to shoot through his arm. _That can’t be good._ What happened in the past year that Tex no longer even knew where Omega was? For that matter he hadn’t asked where Maine was, either.

_{Stop moving. You’re going to worry the twins to death.}_

_Have secret communication with the storage devices?_

_{No but I know them, and they still know what’s going on.}_

“I do believe our dear Omega is currently killing all your friends in that miserable canyon.” _What?_

“What? Why?” Tex’s confusion- and lack of worry- reminds Wash that this was probably true in the original timeline, too. They survive whatever’s going on right now. (Maybe this has to do with the Doc-O'Malley thing he never had a full explanation for.)

“I might have mentioned you were there. He's quite keen to make your acquaintance again.” 

"But you saw me at the snow fortress!” Wash is starting to lose track of the conversation. _{We already know the important shit.}_

_I guess._

“Tex may I remind you I still have a contract on some of those people at Blood Gulch. I figured why not kill eight birds with one stone, eh?” _Jokes on Wyoming, those idiots will survive all this and he ends up dead._

“Well, you just signed his death warrant.”

“Afraid not my dear. You see he's already moved on to someone else, and you'll have no way of telling who.”

“Who did he jump in to?”

“Huh,” Wyoming makes a frankly obnoxious humming noise, “that dear Tex is between me and Omega. Oh, but you'll find out soon enough.”

“You know what? You don't have to tell me. All I have to do is pummel you senseless, rip off your helmet, and access your communication logs. I'll know exactly where he is.”

“Uh, hm. I see. Well in that case, perhaps I shall tell you. ”

“Nah, I like my way better.” There’s the ever-familiar sound of someone being hit with a gun, and then the sound of Wyoming hitting the ground. York whistles.

“He earned that one.” With the threats of Wyoming being able to fire at him or Wash definitely eliminated, York moves to kneel next to Wash. Not that he’d try it with Tex pointing a gun at his head if he was smart, but why take the chance? “How bad is it _actually?”_

“I’m fine.”

“He’s not going to die, but he’s bleeding more than I want him to be,” Church says.

“Oh hey, Epsilon right?”

“That’s me.” Church shrugs. Tex’s footsteps announce her joining them.

“Got what you need?” York looks up to her.

“Of course.” Tex turns her attention to Wash. “You good?”

“Yep.”

“Liar,” Church says.

“Shut up.” Wash pushes himself off the ground. Though he doesn’t _need_ help, he lets York help him to his feet. “What happened to Omega, by the way?”

“He learned how to jump, and it’s been a mess since then.”

“Got it.” Wash nods. “Okay running your equipment?””

“What are you gonna do, trade her Epsilon?” Wash and Tex both pause, realizing York doesn’t know Wash has the other AI. Church laughs at him. “What?”

“Not quite,” Wash says, strained. Because he’s reluctant to explain, and not because he’s lost enough blood to get wobbly. (But he has lost enough blood to get wobbly.)

“Hey seriously, do you want my healing unit?” The healing unit that wouldn’t have been enough to save him, but _would_ be enough to save Wash if South shot him in the back. Wash is only just realizing how bad York must have been hit for that to be the case.

“Uh-”

“Give it to him,” Tex says. “And no, I’m fine.”

“Okay.” Wash takes the healing unit when York hands it over. Then he realizes that if he wants its full effects it has to go in his armor. Right now that space is being taken up by two storage devices. “Sorry kids.” He pulls the storage units out, and holds them out to Tex, who takes them without question. He replaces the storage units with the healing unit. “Thanks.”

“Just two?” Tex ignores York’s confused glancing between them.

“I dealt with the problem one.” Wash takes them back when Tex holds them back out to him.

“So are we just leaving York out of this lovely conversation?” York asks, earning a full roll of Tex’s head, in place of eye roll.

“Those would be storage devices intended for containing AI fragments. Though protocol states fragments be destroyed in the case of Freelancers death.” Delta appears. Last time Wash had been here, Delta had made that later point very clear.

“Yeah, but that protocol is bullshit,” Wash says, blandly. “And their Freelancer isn’t dead.”

“You don’t have to hide in there, you know,” Church says. Iota appears first, followed by Eta.

“Wait-” York starts, cut off by Tex.

“They stuck around after you dealt with Sigma?”

“Hold on-”

“My radio’s broken, and nobody else was around. But- uh- we’ve talked about it, they…understood?”

“We understand enough,” Eta says.

“Guess that’s why you didn’t respond.”

“Respond?”

“I went to Blood Gulch.”

“Oh.”

“Guys-”

“Agent Texas, are you sure you don’t want one of us to assist you?” Iota asks, simply.

“No I’m good.”

“Seriously you can’t be ignoring me-”

“It appears they are,” Delta offers, helpfully.

_“D.”_

“How about we fill each other in on what we’re missing?” Wash addresses them all. York huffs in annoyance, but agrees. _{Did you do that on purpose?}_

_Maybe._

_{Somebody's still upset about the_ **_**worst fighter** _**_comment.}_

_You know about that?_

_{Oh. I guess I do.}_

The filling each other in process happens as they travel. Once Wash’s shoulder stops bleeding, he puts the storage units back in his armor, and holds the healing unit instead. Less effective, sure, but safer way to carry everything.

Tex’s side is pretty simple. Her arrival at Blood Gulch, Omega leaving her, and her own exit from Blood Gulch. She skims over the majority of what happened, specifically related to the Reds and Blues, but the general picture is easy enough to understand. She does fill York in on the fact Alpha is there, calling himself Church. (Technically she tells them both, but Wash already knows, and Tex knows that.)

York’s side is the most unfamiliar. It’s also not so eventful that it takes long. For a short time he and Maine traveled together, after separating from Tex, but eventually went their separate ways too. (In York’s words, there was no specific reason other than it being easier.) He did a number of things Wash doesn’t think were really that important, to understanding the overall situation, until Tex found him.

“Honestly I was glad you’d split up,” Tex tells York. He makes a comment about making it sound like they were dating that goes ignored. “Don’t want him dealing with Omega.”

“Wait- did something happen while you were still together?” Wash asks.

“Omega jumped to him and he didn’t take it well.”

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense.”

“So, how’d your detective work go, Wash?” York asks.

“Oh, right…” Wash’s side is easy to explain, even though he has to avoid a few facts about why he went where he did specifically. Got logs, copied them just in case, delivered one copy to the UNSC and hid the other. Then did inconsequential work until when they all met up.

“Oh yeah, why _did_ you go there?”

_We cannot keep doing this._

_{Hey bud you were the one who didn’t just stop at the merc work part.}_

_You’re no help._

_{How dare you? After all I’ve done for you?}_

_Yeah, yeah I get it._ Wash sighs. “I- uh-” Wash shakes his head. “Gamma.”

“Gamma?”

“Yeah- uh- Gamma was one of the ones who helped them do what they did.”

Once Gamma had been included in the list of people he said he wouldn’t let get away with what happened. The Director and Counselor were easier. Turning evidence in would eventually give them justice. The AI were more difficult. In the original timeline that had accidentally been solved by Sigma gathering them _all_ together, allowing Wash to get rid of them all at once. (Though the others had to go in the process, except Epsilon.) This time…he’s not sure what he even _wants_ to do in regards to Gamma. Sigma was simple, because Wash knew the most about that, and Omega was simple because Tex was already going to go after him anyway. Gamma on the other hand- well he's going to do _something_ , because Alpha deserves justice whether he knows it or not. It’s just more difficult to figure out where to _start_ , there.

He wasn’t with Wyoming, so he could say that was his reason, at least.

“Alright.”

_{Hey you actually managed a not-suspicious explanation this time.}_

_I’ve done that before!_

_{Have you?}_

_Yes!_

_{Must have been in some memory I haven’t seen.}_

_I hate you._

_{Too bad. You’re stuck with me.}_

“So,” York starts, turning to Tex, “we’re going to Blood Gulch?”

“I am,” Tex says, simply. “Nobody’s forcing you to keep following me.”

“Aw, but what would you do without me?”

“I’ll survive.”

“Hear that? She doesn’t need us.”

“She _is_ Tex,” Wash says at the same time Tex says, “I only said _you._ ”

“I can’t believe you hate me personally. You can’t think Wash is more useful than I am?”

“You’re equally useless.” Tex shrugs. “But he was going to come with either way.”

“Huh?”

“It’s my personal goal in life to surround myself with idiots,” Wash says, purposefully bland.

“Well then good thing I'm-” York pauses- “that was a trap.”

“No idea what you mean.”

“Give me back my healing unit.”

“You want me to die?”

“You’re fine!”

“Jesus, can we focus?” Tex turns back- from where she’s at the front of the group- to look at them.

“Yeah you got it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i remember like 0 of season five so i think i gotta rewatch it before starting the next chapter but uh..........this ones like 3000 words so.
> 
> anyway i used the wiki's transcripts for parts where the exact dialogue still made sense bc there was already a lot of changing to focus on you know?


	12. Welcome to Blood Gulch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of the things he _knows_ feel distant. Second-hand, and not having happened yet. Seeing it there, empty yet holding people he's supposed to know, makes it more real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're here~ I rewatched s5 and uh......i forgot how good s5 is, actually. i always start rewatches w/ s6 for.......reasons.  
> I have a general idea of how this "arc" is going to end, and that'll be A Thing.  
> but this'll be a few chapters. no clue how many though.

The trip to Blood Gulch is objectively not that long, but it feels like it. Maybe that’s because all amounts of time are more to Epsilon. Maybe it’s because he can feel the impatiance running through Washington’s head the entire time. Either way, finally reaching Blood Gulch is a relief.

“Alright,” Tex says, as they reach the edge of the canyon.

It really is blandly empty. Which he knew. Seeing it in person just makes that more…real. A lot of the things he _knows_ feel distant. Second-hand, and not having happened yet. Seeing it there, empty yet holding people he’s supposed to know, makes it more real.

“I’m going to check the Blues.” Tex motions towards one side of the canyon. Towards Blue base and- there are most of the Blues, standing over there. She says _check them_ , not _check on them_ because they’re supposed to be hunting down Omega. Epsilon was so caught up on _Blood Gulch_ he’d nearly forgotten. “Wash.”

“Yeah?”

“You should go look for the reds.” She doesn’t say it, but Epsilon can guess half the reason she says so is because of Epsilon, himself. Because Alpha is on Blue team. Because Epsilon is _too similar_ not to raise questions. He wants to say he isn’t stupid enough to show himself, but it doesn’t feel...worth it, in a way.

“Okay.” Washington nods. He’s come to the same conclusion as Epsilon.

“And York?”

“Yes?” York draws the word out, waiting.

“Go with him. If you find something, you’ll have to let me know.”

“You got it, _boss._ ” He says it sarcastically, but he’s agreeing none the less.

“Alright, go.” Tex immediately starts moving towards the Blues, sneaking. Washington and York start moving towards Red Base.

Red base is empty, and there are gunshots in the distance. “You think that means she found him, or?”

“Maybe she’s just trying to scare them,” Washington says. “Looks like the Reds aren’t here.”

“So what’s the plan?” York stops in the middle of the base, turning around to face Washington.

_Since when does he ask me what to do?_

_{You_ **_**do** _**_know more than him right now.}_

 _Yeah but he doesn’t know that._ Washington shrugs. “There are caves. Maybe we check there?”

“Sure.” York pauses, shifting weight. “How’d you know that?”

“Huh? Uh- there’s- maps?”

“Really? How’d you get them? D, you know where we find those?”

“There are no records of maps for Blood Gulch in the Freelancer database,” Delta says, as he appears. Despite all his attempts to remain calms, Washington’s heart-rate picks up in panic.

_{Calm down.}_

_Thanks that helps so much._ Washington takes a breath, trying to appear calm, at least. Epsilon refrains from telling him Delta might be able to read his vital information from his armor, even without being in it. “Well I did go do a bunch of research while we were separated, remember? There was stuff about the simulation bases, too.”

_{Technically not a lie, good job.}_

_Thanks._ Washington thinks, blandly.

_{I wasn’t be sarcastic.}_

_Oh._

“Wash,” York says, tone surprisingly serious. The gunshots have stopped. “Be honest with me. You’re hiding something.”

“What?” Washington’s voice betrays him, pitch raising. He curses, softly enough York can’t hear.

“You knew what was going on with Sigma and Maine, you said you knew- for a fact- that Carolina is alive, you just _happened_ to go after Gamma when we were there, and you jumped to cover Tex when I was objectively in a better place for it and told me to stay still?” York sighs, putting a hand to his helmet for a moment, before dropping it again. It’s a motion that expresses a level of exasperation that’s equivalent to running a hand through his hair.

_How did he put all that together?_

_{Delta, probably.}_

“Don’t you think if something was going on Tex would have noticed-”

“I think she knows,” York says, simply. Epsilon hates that they don’t even have a fake defense for that. “So, look. I’ll trust you, but.” He ends his sentence with a shrug, instead of a proper conclusion. Delta is silent, but his presence serves as a reminder that they can’t so easily lie their way out of this.

“You…” _wouldn’t believe me,_ Washington thinks. His worry is seeping into the place their minds meet, putting Epsilon on edge.

 _{It’ll be okay.}_ Epsilon isn’t exactly equipped to offer comfort. It’s not something he feels qualified for. But he has to do something before Washington’s panic starts warping his ability to consider the situation. _{He said he’ll trust you.}_

_So, what? You think I should tell him?_

_{I think you should do what you feel is best.}_

_This affects you, too. And Delta, Eta, and Iota will find out, too._

_{I trust your judgement.}_

_You shouldn’t._ There’s something about that, that twists at Epsilons non-existent gut. A series of events- memories- that Washington thinks of which Epsilon knows he shouldn’t look at. (Trusting South, shooting Donut, thinking the Meta wouldn’t immediately turn on him, trusting Felix, trusting Temple, leaving the room without letting Carolina explain herself.)

_{Stop that.}_

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Washington says, finally. York shifts his weight again, like he’s considering this. Or is just surprised that’s the response. Epsilon can’t quite pinpoint which.

“Try me.”

Washington takes a deep breathes, then says, as simply as he can, “I’m from the future.”

And York sputters, then starts laughing.

_Wow, so much for trusting me._

_{Not the worst reaction you could have gotten.}_

_Not helping._

“You- you can’t be serious.”

“I- no, of course not. We should get going.” Washington turns, quickly making his way out of Red Base. As quickly has he can without running, anyway.

_{10/10.}_

_Shut the fuck up._

_{Hey you did great. You really nailed the convincing there.}_

**_**Church.** _ **

_{I’m sure he wont think you’re crazy at all.}_

**_**Epsilon.** _ **

_{Okay, Okay.}_

They find the Reds in the caves, standing around, in the middle of conversation. York had followed after Epsilon and Washington, after a moment, but remained silent until the Reds were in sight.

“So...that them?”

“Yeah.” Washington nods.

“Familiar with them?”

“Why would I be?”

“Well you’re _from the future,_ so I figured you’d met them.”

“Oh my god, shut up. Let’s just go see if any of them are acting…Omega-ish.”

“What if that’s just what they’re like?”

“It’s not.”

“So you _do_ know them.”

Washington pointedly ignores York, and starts walking towards the Reds. Epsilon tries to stifle the amusement he feels. _Stop that._

_{I can’t help it.}_

“Hey!” Washington shouts, drawing the Reds attention. In a moment, everyone but Grif has pointed a weapon at him. Epsilon’s immediate reaction is to go on alert, despite everything he knows. Washington very specifically _doesn’t_ raise his own weapon. He stops just a few feet away from them, and York stops next to him. “Don’t shoot.”

“Give me one good reason,” Sarge is the first to speak. “You could be blue spies.”

“We’re not.”

_{You are on blue team though.}_

_Is your goal today to distract me?_

_{Yes.}_

“Yeah,” York starts, “I’m a red through and through.”

“Wha-” Washington his cut off by York elbowing him. It’s not hard enough to hurt, through the armor, but it does the job.

“I see, command finally sent us that backup!”

“Uh- Sarge how can we be sure they’re actually-”

“What else would they be, Simmons?”

“Right- uh- we were actually…sent, because we got reports there’s a rouge AI hanging around this canyon.”

“A rouge AI?” Simmons repeats, considering.

“We haven’t heard nothin’ like that.”

“Yeah we’ve been kind of busy dealing with these _druggies,_ ” Donut says, turning to Grif and Simmons. Were he not wearing a helmet, Epsilon is pretty sure he’d be eyeing them down. _What._

_{We don’t have time to get into that.}_

“What happened, here?” York asks, stepping towards them. Weapons are lowered as the _apparent red_ approaches.

“We were drugged and I was kidnapped!” Grif says, drawing attention to himself.

“It’s okay to admit you have a problem.” Donuts comment gets a sigh of annoyance from Grif.

“I fucking hate you.”

“Somebody kidnapped you?” York asks, trying to focus the conversation.

“Yes!” Grif turns back to York. “They said something about a kid and a sword.”

“Huh.”

“A kid and a sword,” Washington repeats, to himself. Epsilon can _feel_ the moment it clicks for him. “Tucker?”

“The blue?” Simmons asks, shocking Washington out of his thoughts.

_{You did know they could hear you, right?}_

_I didn’t think they were paying attention!_

“Its- uh- don’t worry about it.” _I wish I had asked more about their time at Blood Gulch._

_{Too late now.}_

“Hey- can one of you fix a radio?”

“Is yours broken too?” Donut asks. “It happens to everyone sometimes.”

“Uh- yeah. My radio is busted.”

“You a Red too?” Sarge asks, seriously. As if that’s the deciding factor. Well, from what Epsilon saw of Washington’s memories, it probably is.

“No- I mean-”

“I knew it!”

“I can’t believe you’ve been a Blue this whole time, Wash. I trusted you.” York’s amusement only makes his comments more annoying, if Washington’s running thoughts of, _I’m going to kill him,_ are anything to go by.

“Wouldn’t you want a Blue in your debt? Perfect opportunity for victory over them, Sarge.”

“I don’t want anything to do with a dirty blue!”

“Fine!” Washington throws his hands up. “I don’t have time for this.”

“How did he know who you were?” Simmons mutters.

“He’s a spy, obviously!”

“Who knows what else he knows,” York says, struggling against what must be laughter. “Maybe we should fix the radio in exchange for information on Blue team.”

Sarge makes a noise of consideration, before finally responding. “ _Fine_. Hand it over.” He sounds so distinctly unhappy Epsilon can't help his own amusement. 

It seems like nobody was expecting Washington to actually hand his helmet over to, “the enemy,” so easily. Or in York’s case, to _anyone_ so easily. They all jump when Washington reaches up, and pulls his helmet off, tossing it to Sarge, instead of getting any closer.

“He really did it?”

“Wash?” York stresses his name, concern evident.

“What? Reds aren’t _liars_ are they? So we have a deal?”

“We have a deal,” Sarge says, though its more _grumbling_ than anything else. “I always knew Blues would sell each other out.”

“Doesn’t this whole thing seem weird to anyone else?” Simmons asks.

“Oh no, I agree,” York says, simply. Simmons takes a deliberate step away from him.

“If you’re feeling weird, it’s probably because of your addiction.”

“I’m not on drugs, Donut!”

“That’s something a drug addict would say.”

_{So- uh- what’s the plan?}_

_Once my radio is fixed, I’m going to warn Tex someone- probably Omega or at least working with him- is going after Tucker. Or Junior. One of them._

_{Junior’s more likely.}_

_You think?_

_{He is the alien. Wasn’t he important, or something?}_

_Maybe? Tucker didn’t talk about much of that. Just the whole_ **_**this is my son and I love him**_** _thing._

“So, Blue.”

“Washington.”

“Blue,” Sarge repeats. “Tell me about your defenses.”

“Same as Red base, mostly.” Washington pauses, considering. “I think we have a tank?”

“You _think?”_ Grif’s tone is incredulous, but he goes ignored.

“We already knew that,” Simmons says.

“Well I just got here,” Washington admits.

“But you already knew who we were?”

“Tex filled me in.”

“Tex?!”

_{Wow they’re scared of her.}_

_They’re not_ **_**always** _ ** _idiots._

“Yeah, Tex.”

“She’s not here, is she?!” Grif asks, looking around them like she’s going to be there. Or like she’d be visible if she was.

“She’s at Blue base. But she’s here for Omega, not you guys.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Well- yeah, that’s fair.”

Tex hooks the tank up to the ship, thinking. Omega doesn’t _seem_ to be with any of the Blues. And Sheila claimed to know where he was, hence why they’re hooking her up to the ship. So she can tell them if she’s telling the truth, and not kill them if not. (Or even if she is.)

But if he’s not with the Blues…

 _“York,”_ Tex speaks into private channel shared between them, Maine, and Wash. _“Any signs with the Reds?”_

 _“Wash doesn’t seem to think so,”_ York says, in a whisper. He must be really close to them, if he feels the need to do that. But the way he said it…since when is he following Wash’s judgement? She can trust it because she knows that he knows the future. Parts of it, at least. But York doesn’t. _“I think he figured something out, but he’s got the Reds to repair his radio.”_

 _“Okay.”_ Tex turns to the tank, fully hooked up. Then she switches to a channel the Blues can hear. “She’s all set. Transfer should take a while.”

She can’t have all the answers right now, so she’ll have to focus on what she does know. And right now, it’s that Sheila might have the answers she needs. As long as Omega isn’t able to kill her idiots, then it should be fine.

For now. Tex still isn’t going to take any chances.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bet you werent expecting that first half! or the second part of it i mean (or maybe you were idk but considering _i didn't_ that'd be pretty impressive. it just kinda......happened while I was writing.)  
> how do write sarge's accent  
> writing all this red-team propaganda hurts me deeply, as a blue ~~(ignore the fact my favourite colour is red please.)~~  
>  but i do love red team dearly so there's that.


	13. Loop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tex…isn’t so sure about this whole thing. _“They’re probably targeting Tucker and his son. The alien,”_ Wash had told her. She doesn’t know the exact details, but that’s all the information she needs for this situation to seem suspicious. Who was really giving those orders?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am tired.  
> uh rvb zero trailer came out so spoiler for that in these notes (literally all ive watched so dont worry)
> 
> since rvbzero apparently has wash and carolina in it (trailer showed that so not a spoiler-) i guess i already have to remove the canon compliant tag from this? (or do i since technically what happens in c1 could happen in canon and then bc it changes nothing in that timeline it'd still fit-)

It sounded rediculous. Unbelievable. So much so that York couldn’t help but laugh. Wash had to be joking, right? There was no way he was from the _future._ How would that even happen? _Why?_ It didn’t make sense.

And yet-

Wash hands his helmet over so one of the Reds- Sarge, York reminds himself- can fix the radio. He does it easily. Like it’s not a _super big deal_ that he does. But they’re here because Omega is in the canyon somewhere, and could be anywhere. The danger is reason enough, and the fact this is _Wash_ who didn't remove his helmet for months after arriving at Freelancer. It took months before anyone had seen his face, and even after he still wore his helmet 90% of the time. But he handed it over easily, like he could wholeheartedly trust the Reds, even while they were calling him their enemy.

What if he was telling the truth?

If he was…why had he actually shown up to that fight with Wyoming? What was supposed to happen?

_“York stay there or I’ll shoot you too!”_

It isn’t possible, is it?

Wash has his radio back, and is telling Tex about _something_ he’s figured out, while York distracts the Reds by weaseling information out of them. (Meaning he’s just asking question, and Sarge is telling him whatever he asks because York said he was a Red.) The entire time, they’re walking through the caves.

“What’s all this business?” Sarge asks, as they come up to a monitor, and set of computer systems. They…are probably what qualifies as Blood Gulch’s _command_ but York can’t tell them that. So he remains mostly-silent as they observe it switching between cameras in Red-Base.

York very quickly gets an idea for the dynamics of the Reds, as they discuss what it is, and send the orange one- Grif- out to continue searching. He passes Wash, who’s kept himself a solid three feet away at all times, as he leaves.

“The Blues must have set this up. Crafty Devils.” Sarge turns to the only present, “blue,” in the group. He raises his shotgun at Wash, who doesn’t flinch. That’s another thing York adds to the pile of evidence Wash might have been telling the truth. “Care you explain yourself, Blue?”

“It wasn’t us,” Wash says, simply.

“Wait isn’t that blue base?” The one York is pretty sure is named Simmons says. All attention turns back to the monitor. _[These camera’s were most likely set up to keep track of anywhere the Alpha could potentially end up.]_

_Thanks, D._

“See,” Wash says. “Someone must have been spying on _all_ of us.”

“Who would do that?” The pink one asks. York thinks his name is Donut- Doughnut? He’ll have to ask at some point.

“Don’t believe the Blue so easily!”

“I’m telling the truth.” Wash’s tone is surprisingly bland, like he’s _used to this._ Another thing added to the evidence pile.

“Like we can trust anything you say!”

“Alright.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Pink- which York’s decided to call him, until he has a name- asks, drawing attention once again back to the monitor.

“Armor?” York says.

“It looks like sister’s armor.” Simmons gasps.

“Oh no. What happened to her?” Pink turns to Simmons, as if he’ll know.

“I don’t think we can assume something happened just because there’s armor there.” York’s words go pointedly ignored.

“Clearly she’s been disintegrated.” Sarge nods, as if agreeing with his own statement.

“Why would they do that?! We can’t tell Grif, he’ll be devastated.” Okay, they’re jumping to conclusions. And York feel like he’s missing information.

“She’s not-”

“Tell me what?” Oh, Grif’s back. Everyone turns to him.

“Tell you that your sister has been vaporized by the Blues.”

“What?!”

“Sarge!”

“She’s not dead!” Wash shouts before Grif can get too upset. “Nobody's dead!”

“How would you know?! You said you just got here!”

“Why would they kill her, she’s on their- our- team! York, back me up here!”

“Hey I don’t know what Blues do.”

“Seriously?!”

“But I agree you guys jumped to conclusions.”

“I hate you.”

“So my sister _isn’t_ dead?”

“Your sister isn’t dead,” Wash confirms.

“Don’t lie to the man!” Sarge says. “He needs the truth.”

“Since when do you-”

“Oh, hey!” Pink draws their attention. “She’s not dead, she’s just naked!”

“What?! I’m gonna kill her!” Any concern leave’s Grif’s voice. The others turn at a _concerning_ speed. Any distance from the Red’s is closed when Wash grabs Simmons and Sarge’s shoulders, spinning them- and himself- away from the monitor. Grif continues saying how he’s going to _kill his sister._

“Get your hands off of me, Blue!”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Weren’t we being concerned about being spied on.”

“We were being spied on by you Blues!”

“You were not. Both teams are being watched,” Wash says, with a sigh.

“I hate to agree with a Blue,” York starts, making his way over to the group. “But I think he might be right.”

Sarge’s response is a grumbled, “nothin' is _right_ about a Blue,” but he isn’t arguing, anymore.

“Now, I know this wasn’t part of our deal, but do you know how to get out of these caves?” Wash asks, turning specifically to Simmons.

“Well…kinda of?”

_We could go back the way we came, right?_

_[Perhaps this is about establishing himself as an ally?]_

“Great, point me that way?”

“Hey are the Blues having some kind of meeting?” Pink asks, drawing everyone’s attention back to the monitor. Sure enough the Blues- and Tex, or is she also a Blue- are on top of their base, gathered around.

“I knew it. They’re coming to attack our base! Dirty backstabbers...”

“Sarge, aren’t they _supposed_ to do that?” York asks, without really thinking. (Pink echos this statement just a split second off. York’s not sure how he feels about that.) They’re getting to him already, he can feel it.

“They’re having a meeting without one of their own?” Grif turns towards the “Blue” in question.

“Uh- yeah. They don’t…know about me?”

“How’s that work?”

“I did say I just got here.”

“Of course the Blue’s would leave a man behind.”

“Says the guy who’s dead-set on killing one of his men.”

“What was that?!”

“Nothing, Sarge,” Wash says, placating. Yep, another piece of evidence. Then, quietly, through the radio where only York can hear, “I’m going. I need to check something.”

“Okay? Something…future related?”

“Shut up.”

A Blue-team meeting. A Blue team meeting about attacking the Reds. Tex would like to say there are _way more important things_ to worry about, but that would mean admitting that the Reds don’t matter. That they aren’t _fighting_ an army of Reds, just like the Reds aren’t fighting an army Blues.

“Alright. Vic called and said we should attack Red Base right away. I don’t know why, but I guess we’re gonna do that.” Church sounds about as enthusiastic as Tex feels. Which is to say _not at all._

“Attack? Shouldn't we call soldiers or the military for something like that?”

“And for some reason he thinks it's a good idea for some of us to go through the caves.”

“Why?”

“I don't know, who cares? So, me and Tex and Tucker are gonna go right up the middle.”

Tex…isn’t so sure about this whole thing. _“They’re probably targeting Tucker and his son. The alien,”_ Wash had told her. She doesn’t know the exact details, but that’s all the information she needs for this situation to seem suspicious. Who was really giving those orders?

“What about my kid? He can't go in to battle!”

”Doc, Sister, and Junior, you guys go get lost in the caves.”

“Oh.”

Tex doesn’t know how to redistribute the groups to make it less of a problem. Keeping Junior and Tucker together just increases the chances of them both being caught in the same trap. But if it turns out they only need one of them, and Tex isn’t there to deal with the other, that’s also a problem.

 _“Hey,”_ Tex whispers harshly into her radio. The DINNER5682 channel pings when York switches to it.

“Yeah, Tex?”

“Where are you?”

“Caves.”

“Great, perfect. Some of the Blues are heading that way, I need you to watch out for them. The alien-kid especially.”

“Alien? Oh- no yeah I see.”

“What?”

“Found something, fill you in later- Hey, Sarge, maybe we can sneak up on the Blues?” And then his side goes quiet.

“What about me, can I get lost too?” Caboose’s words draw Tex back to the Blues.

“No, Caboose. I need you to stay here and watch Sheila.” Conversation continues, but Tex’s mind is running strategy. This is probably a trap, but maybe she can use it to her advantage.

“Florida?” Of all the people York expected to run into, underneath Blood Gulch, kidnapping Simulation Troopers and an Alien, Florida wasn’t at the top of the list. But he'd been speaking, when York arrived, and that was definitely him. (He'd lost the Reds at some point and even he isn't sure how.)

Actually it makes a bit too much sense, in retrospect. Except-

“Mwahuhu, fool-”

 _Omega_ , then. And he’s got an Alien with him, too. This could be…more difficult than expected. _Watch my bad side._

_[Watching left.]_

“Hey, Blues? Run!” York tosses a grenade between the Blues, and Omega/Florida and Friend. The explosion kicks up some of the water on the cave floor, enough of a distraction for the Sim Troopers to run back the way the came. The other two, on the other hand, turn their attention to York.

“You-”

“Me.” York shrugs, then turns to run further into the caves. “Hey, Tex, Wash? If you can hear me, you wont believe who I just saw-”

“Get back here!”

“Or still see.”

_[They’re gaining on you.]_

_Thanks. Help me lose them?_

_[Take a right, next chance you get. Based on what we’ve seen of the cave system, it’s likely-]_

_I don’t need the details just the instructions._

_[Of course.]_

_Wyoming,_ Wash thinks, bitterly. He should have said they should kill him. There he is, standing on top of Red Base, holding a gun to Tucker and Church. And Tex, though she disappears. And the Tank- well that doesn’t _look_ like Blue Team backup.

_{I have a feeling…}_

_Which is?_

_{Wonder where Gamma is.}_

_Great, any idea what we should do, here?_

_{I’m trying. We need to get closer.}_

_Okay._ Wash makes his way around to behind the Tank. (Because _fuck that_ , actually.) He climbs onto the back of the Tank- luckily they don’t have sensors for that, though if it _is_ Gamma, he’ll likely notice if Wash isn’t careful. And then, just as he’s able to see everyone, Tex appears, knocking Wyoming to the ground. She disappears again a second later- to hide from the Tank. Tucker and Church move immediately, jumping off of Red Base.

“Way to go-”

“Church! I’m coming to help! Don’t start without me!” Caboose’s voice rings throughout the Canyon.

Wyoming groans from his spot on the floor. “The idiot- take him out.”

And then the Tank is firing at Caboose, and Wash scrambles forward to try and disable it at the same time Alpha yells and Tex shoots Wyoming in the gut. Trying to disable the tank does _nothing_ and it's too late and-

And then Wash is back a distance away, moving towards the Tank. It’s disorienting enough that he stumbles.

_{What the fuck.}_

_My thoughts exactly-_

“What? How did we get here?” Tuckers voice is just loud enough to reach Wash.

“Tucker,” Alpha says, disbelief in his tone. He really does sound just like Epsilon- or the other way around- which Wash _knew_ , but...

_{Focus.}_

_Yeah, I know._

“What?”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“With me? What’s happening?”

“Um…we’re being held prisoner? Where the hell have you been?”

“What? How? I’m so confused.”

 _Me too, Tucker,_ Wash thinks. No, _okay_ , he can figure this out. Wyoming must still have his time distortion unit, right? _But why do we know what’s going on?_

 _{Well you_ **_**are** _ ** _a time-traveler.}_

_And Tucker?_

_{Alien things?}_

_Wow, that’s scientific-_

“But Tex! She-”

“No.” Alpha shakes his head. “Tex will take him out.”

“Oh, right, Tex. You mean her?” Wyoming knocks Tex out with a solid swing that’s only possible if he knows exactly where she is. Which he obviously does, Wash reminds himself. He already _did this._

“Poor Tex. Never could figure out when she'd been beaten.” _Bastard._

“What? How did you know where she was?” Alpha looks between the two, lost.

“What do you mean, that's where she was before.” Tucker’s statement in blunt, but confused.

“Before what? Tucker, have you gone insane?”

“Wait a minute. What's going on?” Wyoming’s shoulders drop, as he looks between Tucker and Alpha. _{He’s just as confused, huh?}_

_Serves him right. Now what do we do?_

“I think he knows.”

_{ **Gamma**.}_

_Looks like we were right._

“I think you're right.”

“Church! I'm coming to help! Don't start without me!” And there’s Caboose again. No, wait-

“It's the idiot, take care of him. Quickly.”

“Right.”

“Caboose, no, stay back! Don't get near the tank!” Tucker shouts at the same time Wash realizes _he didn’t get closer to the Tank this time. It wouldn't matter if he had-_

Caboose goes down and Wash decides it’s worth revealing himself to force Wyoming to use his time distortion unit again. Grabs his knife, and throws it in one motion at Wyoming’s shoulder. The motion causes Wash's own shoulder to ache, still not back to 100%.

 _{Payback.}_ Wyoming stumbles, startled, and Wash uses that chance to shoot him in the gut.

“Who’s that?!” Oh, right. The Blues.

And then Wash is back a distance away, moving towards the Tank.

“What is going on?”

“Um... we're being held prisoner? Where the hell have you been?”

Wash climbs onto the Tank, not that Gamma notices. Must be because he didn’t notice the other time Wash made it that far.

“Church don't you remember any of this?”

“Tucker, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“He knows.”

“How the devil is he keeping up with us?”

 _Now,_ Wash thinks, _what’s the best way out of this?_

_{We’re not close enough to stop this. And no offense, but you’re not a good enough shot to hit him at this angle.}_

_I don’t need to be._

_{Yeah?}_

_Yeah. Speaker?_

_{Done.}_

“HEY WYOMING!”

“Wha-” Wyoming spins around to face Wash. “This isn’t what you’re supposed to do-”

“Didn’t you say something about not knowing when you’re beaten?”

“That is not what I-” There’s the _ever familiar_ sound of the energy sword powering on. The only part of it Wash can see is sticking out through Wyoming’s chest. “Said?”

 _He caught on,_ Wash thinks, relieved.

Tucker pulls the sword back, and Wyoming collapses onto the ground. “That’s what you get for going after my kid, bitch.”

“Reggie,” Gamma says, almost sounding upset. As much as _Gamma_ can sound upset, anyway.

“What the fuck was that?!” Tex yells, appearing. She’s facing Wash, which means facing Gamma.

“No time!” Wash jumps off of the tank, as the barrel spins around to hit him. Tex makes an annoyed noise but she- and the other two- jump off of the Base, anyway.

They all meet- meaning stumble into each other- just just outside of Red Base’s entrance. There’s no time to catch each other up, because of what’s _in_ Red Base.

“This doesn’t even make sense!” Wash shouts, seeing all the Wyoming copies.

“Somebody doesn’t know about time travel!” Alpha says. _Oh if only he knew._

“Talking later, moving now!” Tex pushes Alpha to turn around, and they’re all running away from Red Base.

“Hey who the hell is that-”

“Not now!” Tex effectively silences Alpha.

“Wait I know what to do-”

“You?!” Tex spins to face Tucker as they all slide to a stop behind a collection of rocks. The Wyoming’s are shouting things, and firing at them still.

“Trust me!”

“You shot me ten minutes ago!”

Alpha starts to say something, but Wash beats him to it. “No I think Tucker knows what’s going on, too.” He emphasizes the word _too_ , and Tex sighs.

“Fine. What’s the plan?”

“Distract the Wyoming’s. I’ma take care of the fucking tank.”

“Distract them how?!” Alpha shouts, but Tucker is already moving.

“Don’t die!”

“That’s not an answer, asshole!”

“You should try to get back to Blue base,” Wash says. Alpha turns to him. Wash feels like he’s being eyed- glared at- despite the fact he can’t see it.

“And who the hell are you, again?”

“Uh-”

“This is Washington,” Tex says, simply. “And he’ll be _helping you back to Blue Base._ ” The way she says it leaves no room for argument.

_{That was directed at you.}_

_I know._

“Why him-”

“Trust me,” Tex says. Alpha breathes a heavy sigh.

“Fine!”

They’d lost Florida-Omega and his Alien companion, in the caves, and somehow managed to reunite with the Reds. So York would call that a- temporary- success. Still, it leaves other problems. Specifically with the fact that they’ll likely decide to just go back after the Blues.

“Hey, boss,” York starts, getting Sarge’s attention. “Want to…go after Blue Base, while they’re attacking Red Base?”

It might cause issues with the fact the Reds will _not_ want to protect the Blues, but that’s better than letting Omega do whatever he wants.

Here’s how things go, when the Reds and York get out of the caves: They immediately manage to find a warthog outside of Blue base. Realize the Blues are almost all there, and only don’t start firing on each other because one of them leads a tank to the base, that’s firing at him. The Red’s jump onto the warthog- dragging York along with them- and take off while the Blue does…whatever it is he’s doing.

And the Red’s drive right into a pack of Wyoming’s- _what the fuck-_ that are shooting at the approaching other-Blue and Wash. _Wait is that the Alpha?_ Tex isn’t far behind them. A Wyoming shoots at the Reds, and that’s all the motivation they need for York to convince them- well, Sarge and Simmons at least- to start crashing the warthog into them.

_How did the Reds manage to get a warthog right after leaving the caves? How did they manage to get_ **_**here** _ ** _so fast? How-_

_{Wash. This is the Reds we’re talking about.}_

Wash breathes a sigh.

That’s most of the Wyoming’s taken out. And Tucker managed to get Gamma trapped behind a firewall, for now. Which leaves one Wyoming. And Omega, wherever he is.

“What's your plan, Wyoming? Why are you here, and what do you want with Junior?” Alpha asks, standing over the last of the Wyoming’s. The Reds are preoccupied chasing Caboose, except for their newest member. York is there with the rest of them. He’s filling Wash and Tex in, on the DINNER5682 channel. Multitasking.

“He already told me! My kid is the last part of that big prophecy we thought failed. He's supposed to become some big religious saviour for their whole race, or some shit.” Tucker keeps his gun pointed strictly at Wyoming’s head as he speaks.

“What?”

“Yeah, so they wanna make Junior fulfill the prophecy and have O'Malley infect him. Then they can use him to enslave all the aliens by corrupting their religion from the inside.”

“Okay. That's disgusting.”

“No, that's our job. To win the war at any cost.” Wyoming sounds, for this moment, like he believes that. It’s…kind of sad, in a way. Because the Freelancers thought that was what they were doing, but that was never what Freelancer was really about. Yet, he can't help but think Wyoming is playing it up. _He can’t really believe that, can he?_

_{How should I know?}_

_Yeah. Right._

“Yeah well good luck. Now that we have you, all we need to do is stop O'Malley. And Tex will be more than happy to do that.” Alpha crosses his arms. Wyoming gives a small chuckle at that.

“Oh on the contrary, my friend. Now that she knows our plan, not only will she not stop us; our dear Tex is going to help us.”

“Oh yeah. I'm sure she'd be happy to help O'Malley. Isn't that right, Tex. _Tex?”_ Alpha's sarcasm turns to worry.

A moment of hesitation, and then…Tex laughs. “Yeah, no way.”

“W-what?” Wyoming’s surprise echos into the next moment of silence. And then Tex shoots him. The last Wyoming dealt with.

“You scared me!” Alpha huffs. Tex shakes her head.

“Come on. Lets go stop the Reds from killing Caboose.”

“I would have done it.” Tex says, quietly, while York tries to trick the Reds and Blues into negotiating a cease-fire until they deal with Omega. Neither team has actually fired at the other once, even since Wyoming was dealt with.

“What do you mean?”

“In your memories- the one’s Epsilon showed me, I ended up in a crashed ship with Gamma, Omega, and Wyoming’s helmet.”

“Oh,” Wash says. He nods, after a moment. "You did."

“I would have done it because…without the war, there’s less chance of something happening to _him._ ” She’s vague, and Wash isn’t sure why. They’re far enough away that the others can’t hear them. Alpha keeps turning to look at Tex, though.

“It wouldn’t have ended the war.” Wash shakes his head. The war will end soon, no matter what Tex does.

“Yeah, I know. Well _this me_ does.” Tex shrugs, then steps forward, towards the group. “We’ve still got to deal with Omega and Gamma.”

“Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually hated writing half of this chapter  
> on the bright side the parts i really wanna write will be next chapter (maybe the next two?)


	14. Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _{Stop that! Stop trying to fix things by yourself! Have you always been like this?!}_ Wash considers this seriously for only a second, then shakes his head. (He’d say no, but more than one incident in his memories would prove that to be a lie, were Epsilon to go looking for them.)  
> “O-okay. I wont do that,” Wash says, finally. Tex breathes a heavy sigh, backing away. Relief hits Wash from Epsilon’s mind in waves. Tex turns back to the others, discussing plans. Church’s head keeps switching between Wash and Tex, for a while. York keeps looking directly at Wash. “What?”  
> “You were serious.”  
> “When?”  
> York doesn’t respond, turning back to the discussion at hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took so long i've been having a 3-day long anxiety attack
> 
> but uh it's like 5000-ish words so.......

There’s something oddly relieving about not having his memory to rely on, when it comes to what happens next. Odd, because his memory is the only reason he’s made it this far. Memory always seems to be. But because of that, memory always feels _so important._ He has to remember, because if he doesn’t everything will fall apart.

He can’t remember what happens here, because he never knew. Can’t misremember or forget, which he became increasingly worried about as time went on. (And then he was shot and it was suddenly a constant possibility-)

So it’s weirdly relieving, in a way, to not have anything to remember.

The terms of the “cease-fire” the Reds and Blues come to boil down to only one term: as soon as Omega and the Alien-that-isn’t-Junior are dealt with, all bets are off. Wash highly doubts the Reds and Blues will _actually_ start fighting at that point, anyway. They talk about it a lot, but the fact they all survived up until Wash met them, originally- and beyond that- proved how low the likelihood of that is.

“So do you guys actually have a plan?” Church- that is, the Alpha- asks, directed specifically at the Freelancers. Though part of Wash is pretty sure he’s asking Tex, specifically. She _is_ the one most familiar with Omega.

“Well standing around here isn’t going to help us find them.”

“They’re probably not going to attack a big group,” York says, simply. “Not the way they are now.”

“Great, so you don’t have a plan.”

“Maybe we can lure them somewhere!” Donut suggests.

“Yeah and how do you suggest we do that?” Church asks, then pauses and turns towards Tucker and Junior.

“No,” Tucker says, bluntly.

“Oh come on-”

“Um, maybe O’Malley would show up if we used our radios?” Doc’s suggestion is met with silence.

_He wouldn’t want to take that chance himself, would he?_

_{Seems a little late to worry about him.}_

_Huh?_

_{If Tex would have gone with that plan, then whatever caused his whole_ **_**thing** _**_in the future already happened.}_

“Of course!” Donut nods. “Once he’s inside of someone we’ll catch him before he can do anything!”

“If we’re obvious he wont take the bait,” Tex points out. Another moment of silence.

“So we all broadcast to an open channel and hope?” Doc asks, shifting weight in obvious discomfort.

“We can’t be sure where he’ll end up if we do that,” Tex says. “And if he ends up in another Freelancer it’s just as much of a problem.”

“Aw, don’t think I can deal with it?”

“We’re _not_ doing that again.” The weight of Tex’s glaring can be felt even without seeing it. York holds up his hands, relenting.

“Could we fake your voice somehow?” Tucker asks. “You know, like your voice modifier? He’d probably go to whoever that was.”

“It doesn’t work that-” Tex stops, then shakes her head. “No.”

“You hesitated.”

“It _wont_ work.”

“Seems like it would and you just don’t want to do it,” Grif says. He flinches back, shuffling behind Simmons, when her attention snaps to him.

_Would it work?_

_{Uh- yeah only if we had something that could mimic her voice.}_

_We don’t have that._

_{Well…}_

_What?_

_{Technically we do.}_ Epsilon’s hesitance muffles every other thought between them. He’s realized something, that much is obvious, but for some reason neither he nor Tex want to _say it._

“Okay well maybe if Tucker broadcast from _his_ radio, they’d show up since he’s got one of the things they need?” Simmons suggest.

“I’m not doing that.”

“But-”

“No way, man.”

“Do we have recording equipment? We could record Tex and use that,” York says.

“I _could_ get something like that goin’ but it’d take some time,” Sarge says, voice laced with distaste. Dealing with the Blues is probably the lowest on his list of things he wants to do.

“If we wait to long they might figure out what we’re up to,” Simmons points out.

“Couldn’t we do the same thing you did to the other one?” Kaikaina asks, turning to Tucker.

“Don’t know if that’d work when they probably know I already did it.”

_What do we have, Epsilon?_

_{You wont like it either.}_

_At least I’ll_ **_**know.** _ **

_{Since I have…the memories of the other AI, parts of me kind of_ **_**are** _**_them? Like not actually them, but my memories of them.}_

_Okay?_

_{Tex is also an AI. I could probably recreate at least her voice, using my memories.}_

_But then we’d have to use my Radio._

_{Yeah.}_

_And you’d have to be in there with Omega._

_{So would_ **_**you**_** _.}_ There’s still discussion happening around him, but Wash’s mind is running purely on that thought. Epsilon could lure Omega to them, but…

Actually, why does it have to be _Tex_ in the first place? She’s not the only one who might be willing to do whatever it takes to, “end the war.” To make things safer for people- someone specific.

“I have an idea,” Wash says, cutting conversation- in this case Church specifically- off.

“Oh yeah? What’s _your_ idea?” There’s something that’s not-quite sarcasm in Church’s tone. Annoyance maybe? Something about it is off, like he doesn’t think Wash has one. Or at least not an idea worth listening to.

“Yeah, it doesn’t have to be Tex.”

“What?” Tex turns to him, fully.

“You aren’t the only one who might have gone along with their plans, just the one Wyoming was banking on.”

“So we have someone else act like they believed it? That’d only work if they were capable of doing it.”

“Well- yeah.” _And we have those._ “I just need you to hold on to Epsilon for me.”

“What?”

_{What?}_

“Epsilon?” Someone mutters, but Wash doesn’t have time to process who because Tex is rounding on him. He takes a step back, not having expected _that_ reaction.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m-”

“You’re _not_ doing that,” York says, from behind where Tex has leaned into Wash’s space.

“Are you an idiot?”

“Yes, that’s why it might work-”

“Don’t admit that!”

“Uh-” someone else starts- “what’s going on?”

“Or- well- technically Epsilon could-”

“No.”

“We’ve got to do something-”

“We’ll hunt down Florida if we have to.”

“We _don’t_ have to though-”

“We sure as hell aren’t doing your plan.”

_I don’t technically need to listen to-_

_{YOU”RE NOT DOING THAT!}_

_Wha-_

_{YOU”RE NOT DOING THAT! What’s wrong with you?!}_

_Do you want a list, or-_

_{Stop that! Stop trying to fix things by yourself! Have you always been like this?!}_ Wash considers this seriously for only a second, then shakes his head. (He’d say no, but more than one incident in his memories would prove that to be a lie, were Epsilon to go looking for them.)

“O-okay. I wont do that,” Wash says, finally. Tex breathes a heavy sigh, backing away. Relief hits Wash from Epsilon’s mind in waves. Tex turns back to the others, discussing plans. Church’s head keeps switching between Wash and Tex, for a while. York keeps looking directly at Wash. “What?”

“You were serious.”

“When?”

York doesn’t respond, turning back to the discussion at hand.

“Why _don’t_ we pretend you were going along with their plan?” Simmons suggests. “I mean- well- didn’t you say that Wyoming thought you’d go along with it?”

“We can’t do that-”

“If we were going to do that, then why did we even bother with the _trying to fake her voice_ path?!” Tucker asks, cutting Church off.

“I think we should just take the fight to them,” Sarge says. _Should have expected that one._

“Yeah, no. _You guys,_ aren’t going to do that,” Tex says, shaking her head. “They’ve technically got a Freelancer and an AI.”

“Yeah- uh- since when is there a Freelancer?” Church asks. Tex sighs.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah, but we have _three,_ ” York points out. “I’m pretty sure we could handle it.”

“To be fair we’ve seen three Freelancers lose to one before,” Wash points out.

“Yeah, and she’s here.”

“They’ll be expecting us in the caves,” Tex says. “And they’re probably prepared down there.”

“Oh if we pretend to all split up, they’ll probably come out!” There’s a pause, when everyone turns to face Donut. “I mean they’re only after a few people specifically, right? If they think they’re alone, they’ll strike.”

“That’s…”

“A good idea, actually,” Wash says. “Tex can be there, secretly, and as long as their radios aren’t open to a channel they know, Omega can’t get to them.”

“See!”

“You want us to be bait?” Tucker’s disbelief is just as plainly displayed by his posture as his voice.

“Well-”

“Yep.” Tex shrugs. “Don’t think I can handle it?”

“That’s not- _still_.”

“Great, that’s decided.”

“It’ll look obvious if it’s just them,” York points out.

The next suggestion comes from Sarge. “Just send one of the other Blues with them. They wont be scared of any of ‘em.”

“What’s _that_ mean?”

“Okay!” Wash says, loudly, trying to stop that argument before it can start. “Hey, Kai, why don’t you go with Tucker and Junior?”

“Okay!”

“Wait how did you know her name-”

“Let’s go!” Wash grabs onto one of the nearest people- not _the nearest,_ because that’s Tex- and starts walking away. He walks towards Red Base, since he’s grabbed Donut. The rest of them slowly form groups, taking off in different directions. Tucker, Kaikaina, and Junior head past Blue Base, closer to the caves. Tex goes a different direction, then activates her camouflage.

“Why’d you head to Red Base, aren’t you a Blue?”

“Oh-” Wash stops, turning to fully face Donut- “I didn’t really think about it. Not like I’m _officially_ a Blue.”

“You’re not?”

“No I just- uh- it felt right.”

“If you say so.”

“Hey- uh- Donut?”

“Yes?”

“Your ideas for the plan- they weren’t all that bad.”

“Oh? Thank you?”

“Yeah…”

“Think they’ll take the bait?” York asks, through the DINNER5682 channel.

“They’ll have to do something eventually either way,” Tex says, simply.

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be what we want.”

“We’ll deal with it.”

“York-” Delta’s voice cuts through their conversation, only to suddenly stop.

“Uh, guys?” Wash asks, just as York’s voice returns with a simple, “Shit-”

“What?” Tex stresses the word, impatience and annoyance mixing.

“We’re idiots. We set this channel up when you still had Omega.”

“Son of a-”

Between three Freelancers, and technically three AI- though one of them counts in both categories- none of them even _considered_ the channel being one Omega knew of until seconds before it became a problem.

Though the AI process time quicker than their respective Freelancers, Omega is _also_ an AI.

__Things in here sure-__

_{GET OUT!}_

__Oh? **Upset** , Epsilon?__

_Son of a-_

__You fools left yourselves completely unguarded!__

_{Get the fuck out of here!}_

__No.__

_{You-}_

__Here, I’ll help you out before I take over the world. You could stand to_ **_**do something more** _**_with all that anger.__

_{I’m not-}_

__Not **you**.__

_{Hey-}_

Wash has been plenty angry, in his life. Felt plenty of rage. But that didn’t mean-

_David pushes Cecil Kyle’s face through a mirror and it should calm him but he’s still-_

_Of_ course _the thing they focus on his the_ commanding officer _and not all the people that_ didn’t die _because of-_

 _They tortured_ **_**us**_** _they lied to_ **_**us** _**_they they they they **he** -_

_Nobody came back for him._

_It should be sad. It should hurt. It should be- finding them should feel like_ something _else. But all he can think is_ **_**they didn’t come back for me** _ ** _._

_She shot him. She-_

_She shot him, she betrayed him- and Delta and_ **_**North-** _ ** _and and and-_

_“Did something about my actions indicate I intend to survive?”_

_“-what in the hell makes you think I’m going to ask?”_

_He shot them. He didn’t care. They didn’t matter. They were_ **_**in his way** _ ** _._

_“Tex?” “Meta don’t-” “I wont go back to prison-”_

_She raises her weapon and- “Don’t do that-” he would have shot her._

_They left they left they- he’s used to this._

_"-who's used to being betrayed on a weekly basis-"_

_"Stay the hell away from me and my men-"_

_Locus and Felix and-_

_“You were a_ **_**survivor** _ ** _.” “I was a different person.” He has to be. He had to be. He can’t still be-_

_Another loss, it's sad, but-_

_Another loss. He left again._

**_**Temple** _ ** _-_

 _She didn’t_ tell him _. She should have told him._

_“Of course you wouldn’t believe me.”_

_In one motion, he crushes the chip with his foot._

-that didn’t mean he’d give up control that easily. He wouldn’t. He can’t-

__What on earth?__

_{Not to be repetitive but_ **_**fuck off** _ ** _.}_

__...__

Someone is saying something. Someone is talking _to him,_ but he can’t process it.

__Huh.__

_{Huh?! What the hell does, “huh,” mean?!}_

__huhuhu wouldn’t you like to know?__ A pause, and then, __Maybe we can come to an agreement.__

_{That doesn’t sound like you, bastard.}_

__I can_ **_**help** _**_you.__

_{You don’t want to help **anyone**.}_

__You think so?__

_Can you both shut up?!_ Wash huffs out a breath, and realizes after a second he’s not alone. Right, Donut was with him.

“Uh-”

“I’m fine,” Wash says, voice calmer than he feels. “Can you tell- tell the others- tell them Omega is here.”

“What?!”

“Please.”

“Okay!”

__Fool, they’ll try to remove-__

_{WE DON’T WANT YOU HERE!}_

___ **_**You** _ ** _don’t want me here.__

_{Excuse me?}_

_I don’t want you here either. Get out._

__Oh, then should I go somewhere_ ** _ **else?**_** ___ The word _else_ is thought like a threat. A warning.

_I want you to…go to storage._

__So you can_ **_**get rid of me** _**_too? How stupid do you think I am?__

_The plan right now is to get rid of you however we have to. Let’s make a **deal**._

__A deal? Good choice! You should want to make a deal with me.__

_You go to storage, and I_ **_**wont** _**_have you destroyed._

__Or I could just jump over to one of your little friends.__

**_Do it then._ **

Silence. There’s the sound of someone running towards him. Wash doesn’t expect a positive response. In all honesty, he's mostly buying time. Hoping the others will come up with a solution while he was waiting for them.

__Deal.__

_{What?}_

Someone yells his name, and Wash startles. Looks up from the ground- how long had he been staring at it- and sees the group approaching.

“Is something wrong with Agent Dishwasher?”

_What._

_{You’re going to have to get used to him not knowing your name again-}_

“Where’s Omega?” Tex asks, harshly. She comes to a stop in front of Wash. She’s not _aiming_ at him, but holds a tight grip on her weapon, pointing in his general direction.

“Don’t be mad.”

“Not a good start,” York mutters, from behind Tex.

“What did you do?”

“Uh- negotiated?”

“For _what?”_

“Us not…killing Omega?”

“What?!”

“Dude-”

“You didn’t really.”

“Seriously?!”

“Isn’t that the point?”

“Why are we yelling?!”

“Are you a fucking idiot?!”

“Why did you trust this guy, again?”

“W-wait, hear me out!” Wash holds up his hands.

“Talk quickly,” Tex says. And _now_ she’s aiming.

“He agreed to go to storage in exchange for his life.”

“ _Omega_ did?”

“Tex,” Wash starts, cautiously, “he’s in my head.” He might not be memory, but he is in there with Epsilon, too. That combined with being _inside his head_ , Wash had a pretty good idea why he’d agreed. Can’t take over the world if you’re dead, and Omega just got a good look and the lengths they’re- _he’s_ \- willing to go to. What he’s so desperate to protect.

Slowly, Tex lowers her gun. “If he tries literally _anything.”_

“Yeah, I know. So, uh, someone have a storage unit?”

“By the way, the Alien?”

“Yeah we took care of that part while you were busy.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

“Are you okay?” York tilts his head, portraying a level of concern his voice and lack of visible expressions don’t.

“I’m fine.”

“How’d you get him to agree to this?”

“I- uh- don’t know.”

“Oh does this have to do with the future, too?”

“You’re really not letting that go, are you? I said I wasn’t serious-”

“Sure, sure.”

Once Omega is “safely” transferred to a storage unit, it’s given to Tex for safekeeping.

“Now that that’s done,” Sarge starts, tone surprisingly calm. “Time to get back to fightin’ the Blues!”

“Whoa- seriously?! Right now?” Church turns, startled. “Can’t fighting wait until tomorrow?”

“Of course you’d say that, you Blues are all cowards.”

“Are you kidding-”

Soon, these people are probably going to be separated. Sure that had most likely happened because of the ship crash, originally, but there was a pretty good chance it would still happen. If the Director got any word of how chaotic things had gotten in Blood Gulch, he’s sure to want the Alpha moved.

“You Reds-”

There’s no reason to separate them, not really. It would be better if they weren’t, he thinks. Maybe it’s a selfish thought, but that doesn’t mean he’s _wrong._ He doesn’t think he’s wrong, this time. They’re going to be a family, one day. Be unable to leave each other behind. Separating them is just delaying something that could happen so much faster if…

“I didn’t want ta work with a Blue in the first place.”

“The teams aren’t real.” Wash isn’t sure what possess him to say this. He shouldn't have said it. He knows he shouldn’t have said it.

“What?”

“Nonsense!”

 _“Wash,_ ” Tex’s voice is warning.

“They aren’t!” Something like _fear_ settles into his chest. What’s he scared of? Wash glances around the group, but nobody’s body-language screams _belief_ , not that he really expected that. “There’s not Red and Blue war, and-” _and what_ , he thinks. He can’t tell them the truth, not really.

“That’s fucking stupid,” Church says.

“I hate to agree with a filthy Blue, but that’s hogwash.”

“I-”

“Yeah, no, that’s stupid. I’m going back to Blue Base.” Church spins, leaving. Tex follows him. The Reds turn to leave, too, and Sarge grabs onto York, so he goes with them. The people who remain are pointedly staring at Wash.

“So did Omega fuck your head up, or?” Tucker asks, voice carefully calm. Surprisingly so.

“We’ve all been there!” Doc says. There’s a round of _no, we haven’t,_ from most everyone else.

“You know it does make a _little_ sense,” Kaikaina offers. “Maybe I didn’t sign up for the wrong army!”

“What are we talking about?” Everyone jumps, spinning to face the newcomer.

“Florida?!”

“Hey, Washington, is that you?”

_Right, Omega just left him, so he’s still here._

_{Is it weird I don’t like him being here?}_

_No._ Wash never interacted with Florida much. They rarely ended up on missions together, let alone actually in the same _part_ of the mission, and they talked outside of missions even less than that. Florida had always kind of…unsettled him.

“Uh- yeah.”

“Been a while! What are we talking about?”

“I told them…the Reds and Blues aren’t actually fighting.”

“I see.” Florida nods.

“Wait- you two know each other? Who’s Florida?! He was telling the truth?!” Tucker motions between the two, as if that will answer his questions.

“Oh right. I used to be a Freelancer, but don’t worry about that.”

“What-”

Florida turns back to Wash. “By the way, I heard something odd about you.”

“Oh- uh- what’s that?”

Florida grabs his gun from his thigh, and points it at Wash. To the side Tucker mutters, “what the fuck?”

“That you’ve been going after AI.”

“I haven’t- okay I see how you could get that idea but-” _wait_. Does Florida think Wash is here for the Alpha? “If I was, wouldn’t I have gone after-”

“Now, now. I don’t want to hear your _lies._ Where are the other AI?”

“Seriously? Is this- this is what we’re doing? What are you going to do, hand them back to the _Director?”_

“Well of course.”

“You-” Florida shoots Wash in the stomach. He stumbles forward, putting his hand to the wound.

 _What the hell was that for?_ Doc shouts something. Kaikaina back ups, behind Doc. Tucker moves to the side, behind Florida. Probably the safest place. Caboose does not move. “What the fuck?”

“The AI.”

“I don’t have them with me.” Lying is a dangerous game to play, but he’s not just going to hand them over to Florida, if the other is set on the Project’s side. Why was he so set on that? Is that why they sent him to watch the Alpha? _Hey, you can jump, right?_

_{No.}_

_You should be able to-_

_{We are not having this discussion again! Again today!}_

_Epsilon-_ Florida fires again, this time landing a solid shot to Wash’s leg. Why hadn’t he grabbed his own weapon yet? His mind only catches up to the fact he should have done that when he hits the ground. _Fuck._

“You didn’t think I’d believe that, did you? Come on, now, I don’t _want_ to hurt you, you know?” His tone isn’t inherently threatening. It's nice, even. Which makes it all the worse, when he’s still got a weapon pointed at Wash.

“I only have _my_ AI.”

“Actually I think it’s UNSC property.”

 _“What the fuck is going on,”_ Tucker whispers. _“I have no idea,”_ Kaikaina says. _“We should stop this,”_ Doc says. _"What's going on?"_ Caboose asks.

“Then where are the other three, hm?”

“I hid them.”

The weight in Wash’s head lifts. For all Epsilon’s arguing, he leaves without warning. Wash glances at the part of his HUD that tells him what radio channel he’s broadcasting to. BLUE0130. _That can’t be right._ It’s a Blue Team channel, one they gave Wash access too after they saved him. One that must have existed before then, but if it’s here now-

Where had Epsilon gone?

“Hey,” Epsilon says, tone all annoyance. “I’m not anyone’s property, thanks.” ( _“There’s a Tiny Church,” Caboose gasps.)_

Wash turns, Epsilon stands- floats- next to Tucker’s shoulder. _What is he doing?_ A more important question strikes him less than a second later. _When had Tucker gotten so close to Florida?_

“Wait if you’re there…” Florida turns back to Wash, confusion evident even through his helmet. “This sure is odd.”

_“You’re a good soldier,”_ He’d said. _“All you have to do is try.”_

“Stab!” Florida goes down about as gracefully as Wyoming had. Which is to say, not at all. “Okay, now, you are going to _explain what the fuck is going on.”_ It takes a moment for Wash to realize he’s talking to Epsilon, not Wash.

“Sure, sure. First: Wash is bleeding out.” At the words, everyone starts moving. Weight returns to Wash’s head, as Doc has him lay on the ground. At Doc’s direction- and about four failed attempts to direct him- Caboose grabs onto Wash’s leg, putting pressure on that wound. Doc puts pressure on the stomach wound. Epsilon sends Kaikaina off to get York- “he has a healing unit-” while Wash tries to process what’s happened.

_I can’t believe I already got shot again._

_{Somehow I can.}_

_Sorry._

_{Yeah, whatever.}_

_Thank you._

_{Mhm.}_

“Okay, so, I’m going to try and explain what I can.”

“Okay, tiny Church.”

“Uh- right, lets start with that. I’m not Church.”

“But you look so similar!”

“L-look? No- uh- we’re brothers. Secret brothers. Don’t mention me.”

“Okay!”

“And uh- If I have to hide…Iota take over for me?” Epsilon doesn’t wait for a response. Eta and Iota can hear him, from the storage devices, so it’s pretty likely they understood. “Great, okay. Where do I start?”

“Literally _anywhere,_ dude.” Tuckers annoyance and confusion are weirdly familiar. _Not so weirdly,_ Wash thinks. _That was most of the time at Crash Site Bravo._

Tex had gone after Church half because she couldn’t be sure how he’d actually take what Wash said, and half because she’s preventing herself from reacting to it. Her instinct is to promptly beat the shit out of him for it, but she also thinks she knows _why_ he’d said it.

“Hey- that wasn’t- was that actually the truth?” Church turns to Tex, and she knows whatever she says, he’ll probably take at face value. If she says no, if she says it wasn’t true, he’ll probably believe her. Except, despite how much it annoyed her that Wash had told them, she also wasn’t sure she wanted to lie, now that it was out there.

“That’s-” A gunshot cuts her off. They both spin around, right outside of the Blue Base. The shot came back from where they’d just left, and it fills Tex with a horrible amount of worry. One she wishes she didn’t have to feel, but this canyon is occupied by all of her stupid, danger-attracting, idiots. “I’m going to see what the hell that was.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Church.”

“You can’t _stop me._ ”

She could, actually. They both know that. Another gunshot rings through the canyon. “Fine.” And then she’s taking off in a run, Church trailing behind her.

Tex slows to a stop, when the group comes into sight. Caboose and Doc are trying to stifle bleeding wounds, York is running towards the group from further in the distance, trailed by Kaikaina. Tucker is standing nearby, and Epsilon is there, saying something she’s just too far to hear. He sees her, flickers, and this disappears entirely.

“What the hell?” Tucker voice is just loud enough to reach her, at the same moment Church catches up with her. Iota appears, replacing Epsilon.

“What’s going on?” Tex takes another step forward, and notices the collapsed, bleeding form of Florida on the ground.

“I was just in the midst of clearing a few things up,” Iota says, voices light, unconcerned.

“I thought tiny Ch-”

“Caboose,” Tuckers voice is warning. Whatever Epsilon had told them before switching with Iota must have included not mentioning him.

“I’m here!” York slides into place next to Doc, pulling his healing unit from his armor. “You seriously got shot again already?!”

“Mhm.”

“Uh- is he okay?”

“He’s lost a lot of blood, but he’ll probably be fine?” Doc offers, shrugging.

"Probably."

"Look what do you want from me?"

"Something better than that?"

"Okay, well...I don't have anything."

“What were you clearing up, Iota?” Tex asks, drawing attention back to the AI. Next to Tex, Church mutters something about them not mentioning another AI. Tex watches Iota glance shortly at Church, visibly brighten, before they turn away, hiding their reaction.

“Oh, right. I was clarifying the purpose of Simulation Bases.”

York freezes, and Tex’s entire being feels tense.

“Simulation bases?” Church repeats.

“Yeah,” Tucker says. A bitter distaste echoes through the sentence. Something about that makes Tex think Epsilon had been explaining more than _just_ that.

“Why?” Tex asks, because it’s the only question she can form. She wants to get angry. It would be simple. Easy, safe. _Familiar_. But she’s not angry so much as shocked. Concerned.

“Agent Washington believes it would be in the Red and Blue’s best interest to relocated to a currently-unused set of bases.”

 _Valhalla,_ she thinks. Tex may be missing a lot of the memories that dictate Wash and Epsilon’s actions, but she knows just enough. Has seen just enough.

“And then what?”

“Wait, you’re not questioning that?”

“Once he’s recovered, I believe he plans on searching for Agent Carolina.” Their words get an immediate reaction from York, he jumps, finally unfreezing.

“He knows where she might be?”

“Apparently.”

“Why aren’t we asking him, he’s right there?” Kaikaina points out.

“Oh,” Wash says, weakly. “Hey guys wanna see something cool?”

Then he promptly passes out.

“We should…gather the Red’s too,” Tex says, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot the exact way i had the moments i was waiting for in my head the moment i started writing so that sucks!  
> group conversations suck not bc dialogue but bc i dont wanna make more people speak bc then i have to tag their dialogue and the flow is all wrong.
> 
> but uh now that the ai have mostly appeared (obviously sigma is gone and gamma's only appeared outside of a head but) here's their text markers in "thoughts":  
>  _{Epsilon oviously}  
>  [Delta]  
> |Theta|  
> *Eta and Iota, they share one bc the overlapping speech things theyve got*_  
>  _< Sigma, but he's gone rip >  
> _Omega__  
> $Gamma if i ever had him speak$ (Bc it's a flag marker in ren'py scripting, which is the closest thing to coding i know how to do)
> 
> honestly kind of hate that i committed to them all being different, but too late now!!
> 
> edit: fixed the error where florida says "other two" instead of "other three" when talking about the ai bc it didn't occur to me that "hey he would assume wash had all three (/four in the context of all of them and not just the others)" so uhhyeah


	15. If I told you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He moves to speak without thinking about the fact he shouldn’t, the word comes out strained, “Caboose?”_
> 
> “That is my name.”
> 
> “Uh, I think he’s still asleep?”
> 
>  _He reaches up to his throat, startled by his ability to speak, but the bandages are gone. He trails his fingers to where the scars_ should _be, but nothing is there._
> 
> “He passed out, he’s not _asleep,_ ” _Doc says, sighing._ What?
> 
> _{Hey, wake up.}_

_He grabs the insurrectionist’s left arm with his right, swings his left- holding his knife- at them, only to be stopped by them grabbing his left wrist. He moves forward, slamming his helmeted head against their masked face, but it’s not enough for them to let go. It is a good enough distraction, however, so he wraps a leg around one of theirs, and pulls it back while pushing his weight towards them, sending them both to the ground. The shock is enough for their grip to lighten, and he pulls his arm back, before stabbing the knife into their throat. He grabs the device strapped to their waist, meant for setting off an alarm, and jumps back to his feet, pulling his knife out in the process. Runs, leaving them there, and makes his way down the hall._

_“What’s taking so long?” Carolina’s voice echoes through his radio._

_“I’m ran into some trouble, I’m almost there.”_

_“Hurry up.”_

_“I know!” He slides to a stop next to the security room door. Usually security is York’s job, but he’s needed for more important security-things past the alarms Wash's here to shut off. He kicks the door open, startling the guard who grabs their gun, and turns, only to have the alarm device thrown at their face. The distraction is enough for him to throw the knife at them, landing in their face with the sound of tearing flesh. They hit the ground with a terrible yell, not dead, and he rushes over to knock them out, before moving to the computers. “Five-”_

_“-seconds.” Epsilon says._

_“You can’t hurry it up?” Tucker asks, standing next to the computers._

_“You think I wouldn’t if I could?”_

_“Guys,” He says, turning away from the entrance. None of the pirates have come for them yet, but that didn’t mean anything. They knew that._

_“Done!” Epsilon says. Tucker grabs the storage device, and Epsilon jumps back to Carolina, who pulls out a teleportation grenade._

_“Come on, let’s go.” There’s a flash of light and-_

_He wakes in a hospital bed. For a second, his only feeling is confusion, until he processes where he is. Dr. Grey had insisted that he only have two visitors at a time, and Carolina and Tucker had been promptly sent home a few hours earlier for the sake of their own health. His two visitors at the moment are Caboose, laying next to him on the hospital bed, despite the fact Dr. Grey said multiple time not to, and Donut sitting in a chair on his left. There’s a vase of Chorus-native flowers on the table on his right._

_Caboose is asleep, still gripping his right hand with his own right, his left arm haphazardly splayed across the hospital bed behind where Wash was laying against Caboose. He sits up, which draws Donut’s attention away from the datapad he’d been looking at._

_“You’re awake.”_

_He opens his mouth to respond, makes all the motions of it, but nothing comes out. He reaches up, to his neck, and feels the bandages wrapped around them. Right, the bullet. He’s always had a good memory, and generally remembers_ everything _, though not always where those memories came from. His memories of the few months he’s about to relive are foggy at best, but he remembers why they’ll happen. Why he’ll have to go through them again._

_“Oh, right, Grey said you’ll need a few more days before you’re back to speaking.” He nods, then motions for the datapad. Donut takes the hint, and stands to bring it closer to him. He uses his free hand to navigate out of what Donut had pulled up- information on Chorus plants that are edible- and pulls up something he can type with._

“I wanted to thank you,” _he types._ “For the Eeverwhen stuff, and being a good friend. And to say sorry.”

 _“Oh, come on, you’re fine. You and Caboose are the only ones I’m not a_ little _upset with still. Where did that come from?” Donut shifts, leaning against the hospital bed. “I was actually talking to the others about this, but I’m going to be traveling, after this.”_

“He’s lost a lot of blood,” _Doc’s voice echoes distantly. Wash glances at the door, but it’s still closed._

“I cannot give up more blood,” _Caboose says, from behind him. He turns, but Caboose looks to still be asleep._

_He moves to speak without thinking about the fact he shouldn’t, the word comes out strained, “Caboose?”_

“That is my name.”

“Uh, I think he’s still asleep?”

 _He reaches up to his throat, startled by his ability to speak, but the bandages are gone. He trails his fingers to where the scars_ should _be, but nothing is there._

“He passed out, he’s not _asleep,_ ” _Doc says, sighing._ What?

_{Hey, wake up.}_

Wash wakes in Blue Base, laying on the ground. Doc is at his right, holding clean bandages. A glance down at himself shows bandages, soaked in blood, warped around his stomach. His helmet, chest armor, arm armor, and the armor around his injured leg are missing. There are bandages around right leg, too, but they look in better condition than his stomach.

“Oh, he’s awake!” Donut’s voice reaches him from his left. He turns, and finds Donut sitting cross-legged next to him, and Caboose standing further away, on the same side. Donut his missing his helmet- set next to him on the ground. Wash tries to sit up, only for everything to blur. A hand steadies him, and he’s helped to sit up. Doc starts unwrapping his bandages, probably to replace them.

“What happened?” He asks. He means to be louder, but the words come out weakly. Doc starts to wrap him in new bandages.

“You lost a lot of blood.”

“How long-”

“Six hours.”

“Oh.” Once the bandages are in place, they push him to lay down again, and Wash doesn’t have the energy to argue. “What’s going on?”

“I’m gonna let the others know he’s awake,” Doc says, instead of answering him. He stands to leave, and Wash turns his attention to Donut.

“You passed out.”

“I- uh- got that part. What about everyone else?”

“Everyone _else_ is fine, except- uh- the realization that our military careers are a lie.”

“Oh.”

“Hey- uh- you were muttering.”

“In my sleep?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Great,” he says, breathing a sigh. He puts a hand to his face, only to be suddenly reminded that his helmet is missing. “What about?”

“Well…” Donut draws the word out, glancing shortly back at Caboose.

“You were talking to me!” Caboose says, cheerfully.

“That…makes sense. Hey, Caboose.”

“Hello.”

“Anything else?”

“You said something about me,” Donut says, slowly. “About being friends? And something like _Everwhen_?”

“Oh- uh- right.”

“What’s that about?”

“I-” Wash glances between the two. Of anyone, Caboose is likely to believe him, and Donut- well, he’s not sure. “How you feel about time-travel as a concept?”

“Like Wyoming’s thing?”

“No- uh- more than that. Like consciousness being thrown back in time and changing things, kind of time travel.”

“That wouldn’t work, time is circles,” Caboose says, seriously.

“Yeah it is, but- uh- there are multiple circles.” Caboose hums in response. “Uh- I’m- I jumped circles?”

“Okay,” Caboose says, finally, nodding. “I believe you.”

“Donut?” Wash turns back to him, and Donut frowns down at him.

“Are we friends?”

“We- not yet.”

“But we _will be?”_

“Yes?”

“Okay.” Donut nods. “I’ll believe you.”

“Really?”

“Yep. It kind of makes sense.”

 _The people who just met me believe me, but not the one I’ve known for years?_ Then, at once, Wash realizes how quiet Epsilon is. And, if they removed his armor- “where are the storage devices?”

“The one’s from your armor?”

“Yes! Those!”

“Tex took them. She said the rest of us couldn’t be trusted with them while you were passed out.”

“Oh.” He breathes a sigh, and closes his eyes. “Okay. And the other- I mean the AI?”

“Omega is still in storage! Gamma is trying to burst through Sheila’s firewalls, but she said we have a few more hours before he pushes through.”

“Okay.”

 _You’re quiet._ Silence. A panic sets into his chest, but the weight in his mind is still there. “Epsilon?”

“Who?”

“No- uh- sorry.”

_{I’m here, I’m here. Sorry.}_

_Are you…okay?_

_{Fine. I was logged off.}_

_Why?_

_{Hiding in case Alpha shows up.}_

_I doubt he would._

_{He did earlier.}_

_Huh?_

_{He was here earlier.}_

_Why?_

_{To see if you were okay?}_

_No- I mean- I get that but_ **_**why?** _ **

_{I think he remembered who you were.}_

_Can he do that?_

_{He has- like- knowledge memories. Like how you know words but most likely don't remember how you learned every one. But nothing specific, except whatever he’s made since losing me. He recognizes Tex because she’s Tex.}_

_Right._

_{He knew who York was, and associated him with Carolina, which is probably because he remembers Carolina, and they were close.}_

_Right._

_{And he remembered you, which is why he showed up. He was worried about you.}_

_But- wait._ That didn’t make sense. Alpha never remembered him while they were traveling together, in the other timeline. Why would he now? _You think he’d remember everyone?_

_{Doubt it. Maybe he’d recognize the names as Freelancers, but…nothing specific, again. He might remember you vaguely as the “Team rookie” but that’s it.}_

_He never remembered me at all before._

_{That’s weird. I mean you were one of the three he’s most likely to remember.}_

_One of the three?_

_{You know- you remember that, right?}_

The three people he’s most likely to remember? Wash considers this seriously, until a memory bubbles to the surface.

 _“Was anyone hurt?”_ He’d ask, and they would answer, _“Tex.”_ Because she was Tex. Or _“Carolina.”_ Because she was at the top, so something would have gone very wrong. Or-

 _{Stop.}_ It’s not a request. Not even a warning. Just something to halt the thought process, before Wash starts reliving a memory that isn’t his.

_Why did they-_

_{They gave me- uh- they gave him files on all the Freelancers, and he would ask question, sometimes. About Carolina not getting enough rest. About Tex doing anything. And-}_

_Someone getting himself hurt too much._

_{Yep.}_

_But he didn’t recognize- remember me at all, before. Why this time?_

_{That’s-}_ All at once his head erupts his pain, panic swelling his his chest. Just as quickly, it retreats, along with Epsilon’s mind.

“Are you okay?!” Donut’s voice is hurried, panicked. Right, his expressions must show something.

“I’m fine I- I’m fine. Can you give me my helmet?” Once handed his helmet, he puts it on. Not having his face plainly visible makes this easier. “Okay, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He nods. “Can you…leave me alone a while?”

“Uh- sure, okay.” Donut stands, grabbing his own helmet on the way. He puts it on, before pulling Caboose out of the room. Caboose waves goodbye, and once they're out of the room, Wash breathes a sigh.

“Epsilon?” Epsilon flickers into place next to him, curled into himself. Arms up to his chest.

“It’s my fault. This is my fault. I didn’t think I could do that anymore. I thought- it shouldn’t happen- I’m not in a memory unit I shouldn’t- I didn’t think I could project memories- Eta and Iota didn’t get any of that, why is he different? Of course he’s different I should have known- why- I can’t be here. I can’t- he can’t remember-”

“Epsilon!”

“Y-yes?”

“Stop, it’s okay. We’ll…we’ll leave.”

“But you-”

“Hey, now, you guys can’t leave.” York’s voice makes Wash jump, which he immediately regrets. He groans, turning towards the entrance.

“What, why not?”

“Well, firstly, you’re _injured._ ”

“I’ll recover-” Wash glances down at himself- “hey, wait. What happened to the healing unit?”

“It can only do so much, and it’s not like it does anything other than _speed up_ the process. Your body can’t handle all that healing at once.”

“Still.”

“Still,” York repeats, mocking. “Chill out.”

“Chill out?”

“You’re staying with the rest of us.”

“You can’t expect me to stay in Blood Gulch.” He doesn’t need to know that Wash was technically _supposed_ to do that, at one point. Actually being in the Canyon makes him wonder why the others even _wanted_ to go back, aside from nostalgia.

“Nope.” York moves to sit on the ground next to him. “We’re going to Valhalla.”

“Wha- why?”

“Um, because that’s what _he_ suggested.” York motions to Epsilon, who’s posture has straightened since York’s arrival.

“What?”

“You- that was _your_ idea, remember?” Epsilon says.

“I was suffering blood loss,” Wash defends. “But- uh- even then…you think they’ll all go?”

“Tex is _very_ convincing.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.” York shrugs. “Apparently Epsilon here filled some of the others in about _Church,_ but they’re keeping quiet about it.”

“Caboose is?”

“You think he actually understands what he was told?” York tilts his head.

“Yeah- well- maybe? He’s surprisingly perceptive sometimes, and others…”

“Right.” York looks away. “Well we’re going to Valhalla, once you’re able to be moved.”

“I’m fine.”

“Epsilon?” York turns to Epsilon, for his opinion.

“He’s not.”

“Traitor.” Wash glares at Epsilon, who can’t _see_ it, but must know he is. “Okay, fine. I’ll leave _after_ I’m recovered.” As much as he _wants_ to stay with the others, it's not as if his work is done. As long as they're together, he can go back to them.

“And do what?”

“Find…Carolina, I guess?”

“Right.” York turns back to Wash. “And you know where she is.”

“Uh-”

“You _do,_ don’t you?”

“Yes,” Wash admits, quietly. York nods.

“Thought so. You must have asked her about that, in the future.”

“You’re still-”

“You were telling the truth.” It’s not a question. And despite not being able to see his face, Wash can feel the weight of his gaze.

“You didn’t believe me earlier.”

“I didn’t, but…it’s pretty obvious, watching you interact with the Sim Troopers.” He shrugs. “Why’d you actually go after Wyoming, Wash?”

“I…didn’t.”

“What?”

“It wasn’t about Wyoming.”

“Did I die?”

“What- York why would you assume that!?”

“Wow, is that a whole six octaves?”

“I-” Wash shakes his head. “Yes.”

“Huh.” York is silent a moment, but Wash can’t think of anything else to say. Epsilon shifts next to him, awkward. “I guess I owe you, huh?”

“You…don’t.”

“If you say so, then I wont do you any favours later.”

“Whatever,” Wash says, unable to entirely hide the amusement in his tone. “So- uh- how are the Reds taking things?”

“Not…too bad.”

“That’s not convincing.”

“Yeah it…well, they’ll be fine.” York shrugs.

“If you say so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk when the next chapter will be, but probably soon? I ended this one here 1) bc writing long chapters is tiring and 2) bc it feels less awkward to backtrack a bit (which the next chapter will, w/ a perspective change) in a new chapter than in the same one.
> 
> anyone else ever think about the 2 canonical people alpha was told had died are tex and wash bc whats up w/ that?  
> (I don't remember anyone else being mentioned specifically but i assume they all were at some point, but still.)


	16. But You're Still Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I died!” Church throws his hands up. His armor flickers with light- his holographic form struggling to stay in line with his possessed body- but it’s gone quickly. “This place was just a _testing ground_ for Freelancers. They could have killed us.”  
> “They don’t send Freelancers to Blood Gulch. It's- like- it's a control variable.”  
> “You’re here!”  
> “That’s- that was a malfunction. I just decided to come here because…”  
> “Because?”  
> Because he’s here. Tex hates that: the emotions, the vulnerability in it. She knows- logically knows- that it’s okay, but that doesn’t make it easier to say. Especially when she’s trying to hide so much, already. “You’re here.”  
> “Oh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day? well of course, i have to post after 9 to maintain my reputation

The Reds and Blues take the news of their teams, and lives in general, with varying degrees of grace. Meaning that the regulation Blue one- Caboose? He takes it very well. The Purple one seems to accept it right away, likely because he’d worked as a medic for both teams. Yellow and Pink are pretty quiet about the whole thing.

And everyone else _is not taking it well._ Sarge takes off towards Red Base without a word- which is a muted enough reaction to shock York, despite only just meeting the man- and Grif takes off with Yellow- his sister? Simmons eventually wanders off, and the other Blue says nothing before heading towards the ship with his alien son. The Alpha- Church, he’s calling himself and York tries not to think too much about the implications of that, in relation to his memory- takes off once Iota is done explaining.

Once Tex, York, and Caboose- he’s _pretty_ sure that’s his name- carry Wash into Blue Base for Doc, they separate, too. Tex going after Church, Caboose staying to help, and York…

He heads towards Red Base.

York finds Sarge standing in Red Base, staring down at a pile of discarded metal pieces. He approaches without much of an idea of _what_ he’s going to say. “Hey, Sarge. You okay?”

“Okay?” Sarge spins to face him. “Son, I just found out my entire military career was a lie!”

“Well- not- I mean anything you did before Blood Gulch was real?” This does not appear to make him feel any better, if his tense posture is anything to go by. “Look- uh- I mean everything you did today was real?”

“Why are you here?”

“I- you guys- Project Freelancer fucked you over. Us, too. Why not…do something about it? I mean, first we leave without telling them, and then do that...”

“Does it matter?”

“Maybe it- look. You could do some good, you know?”

“That’s what I _thought_ I was doin’ already.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“What’s that?”

“I thought I was doing some good, at Freelancer. Turns out- well- you can guess based on what they did to you guys, right?” York shrugs, looks away. “But you know I’ve only been here- uh- five hours?”

_[4 hours and 27 minutes.]_

_Thanks._ York turns back to Sarge. “I’ve only been here five hours, but I can tell you’re…a capable leader.”

“My men don’t even listen to me!”

“Well- yeah. But they’re still your men, right?"

"What?"

"They haven’t up and left for the other team.”

Sarge hesitates before saying, “they _are_ still here, aren’t they?”

There’s a significant pause, before Sarge starts to walk past York, towards the exit. “Sarge?”

“I ain’t about to let Blue team hog all the glory when you do whatever it is you’re gonna do.”

York laughs at that. “Good. Red team needs that kind of attitude.”

Grif and Kai have ended up back in the caves. Which is…fine, he guesses. Not like there’s anything down here, apparently. There's _probably_ not bats. They said there were not bats.

He’s not a fan of all the _walking_ , but he also wasn’t a fan of sitting around with the news they just got about…everything. They’ve found Lopez- or his head, at least- and Kai has decided to carry it around. Whatever Lopez has to say about that, she’s blatantly ignoring while trying to hold conversation with him. (They also fond Andy, and left him there.)

This whole thing is fucked. They’re not even _real_ soldiers? He nearly died for a war that isn’t even _real?_ What the hell was the point, then?

“There you are!” And _that’s_ Sarge’s voice, great. Grif thought he was busy having a mental breakdown over this, but of course not. Of course he’d find a way to make him miserable. Grif sighs and turns around to face Sarge and, apparently, the Freelancer who said he was Red Team. Kai stops a few steps ahead of him.

“What the fuck do you want, Sarge?”

“Trying to run away from work?”

“The war isn’t _real.”_

“We’ve still got things to do.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.”

“You-” Grif expects an insult, but Sarge just…stops. Sighs. “Look, I can’t order ya to go.”

“No, you _can’t._ ”

“But if you were gonna leave, you’d of done it already.”

“What- no I wouldn’t. I was _drafted.”_ Well, he wasn’t _actually,_ but that’s what he said. And Kai was right there, and that is a discussion for another time. Admitting he’d enlisted, that he’d needed more structure than school could offer when he had to manage himself, wasn’t something he was about to do in front of _Sarge_ , of all people. He’d probably use it as an excuse to get Grif to do more work.

“You could’a been discharged for your injuries.”

“Wha-” he probably could have. He shakes his head, but Sarge is _right._ Sarge’s haphazard job putting Grif back together- if you could even call it that- wouldn’t have prevented them from sending him home. But then what? He loves Kai, and all, but he couldn’t stand the thought of going back home. “So what?”

“So why are you still here?”

Grif instinctively turns to his side, but Kai is the one there and she wont know what the question brings to his mind. So he turns back to Sarge, to say _something_ , but he struggles to find an answer. An excuse. Because he knew _why._ Not just the structure, but because he- and he will _never_ admit this- cares about these assholes he spends his time with. Simmons, and Donut, even Lopez, and even _Sarge._

“What does it _matter?_ What’re we gonna do? We’re not even real soldiers.”

“Give the people behind this a taste of hell,” Sarge says, seriously. “So you in or what, soldier?”

“Absolutely not,” Grif says immediately, without thought.

“You dang-” Sarge cuts himself off, though he’s visibly struggling not to say what he wants to. Which is really fucking weird, actually.

“Fine.” Grif sighs. He’s going to regret this. “What are we doing?”

“First, we’re just relocating,” the Freelancer says, the first thing he’s said since they got here. “Then we’ll figure it out.”

“Great. Talked to Simmons and Donut yet?”

“They’ll come.” Sarge sounds so certain Grif doesn’t bother to argue with him. Besides, he’s pretty sure he’s _right._

“What about the Blues?”

“They’ll go,” the Freelancer says, sounding amused. “Tex’ll make sure of it.”

“Oh, nice,” Kai says, in a tone of voice Grif does _not_ want to analyze. “Well I guess I’m going too!”

“Uh- yeah.” Grif glances at her. “Oh yeah, Sarge, we found Lopez.”

“Good! He’s going too.”

Church is staring at the wall of Blue Base and it is, frankly, really worrying. Tex hadn’t expected him to take the news _well,_ but this is unsettling, if she's honest. For a moment, she wonders if something’s wrong with him- if the news brought something to the surface- but then he turns around to face her.

“You knew.”

“Yeah.” Tex nods.

“Why the fuck- you knew and you just let be believe all that shit?”

“Church-”

“The war isn’t even real. There’s a real war going on out there, and we were here doing _this.”_

“I-” Tex struggles to find the words. To explain without being too honest, on a personal level. “You were- this was safer.”

“I died!” Church throws his hands up. His armor flickers with light- his holographic form struggling to stay in line with his possessed body- but it’s gone quickly. “This place was just a _testing ground_ for Freelancers. They could have killed us.”

“They don’t send Freelancers to Blood Gulch. It's- like- it's a control variable.”

“You’re here!”

“That’s- that was a malfunction. I just decided to come here because…”

“Because?”

Because he’s here. Tex hates that: the emotions, the vulnerability in it. She knows- logically knows- that it’s okay, but that doesn’t make it easier to say. Especially when she’s trying to hide so much, already. “You’re here.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t get sappy on me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He shifts his weight, looking away. Tex watches, waiting because she knows him well enough to know he has more to say. “What are we doing, then? What’s the point?”

“Staying safe. The Project-” _The Director-_ “is a problem. I just- I want you idiots to be safe.”

“That’s why you showed up and immediately started shooting at us?”

“Oh come on, you can handle a few bullet holes. Only I get you kill you guys.”

“Yeah, alright. So is this Valhalla place…nice?”

“In comparison to Blood Gulch? Yeah.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Blood Gulch sucks.”

“It’s okay.” Tex shrugs. “You’ll like it.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Whatever, loser.”

“Hey-”

“Help me get the ship ready with supplies?”

“Fine.” Church glances at Blue Base, then, silent. His silence lasts two seconds, which feels like forever. “Hey, Tex?”

“Yeah?”

“What happened to him?”

“Who? Washington?”

“Yeah.”

“He got shot.”

“No- Tex.” Church turns back to her. Whatever look he’s trying to give her is ineffective due to not having a face, and also wearing a helmet. “Didn’t he used to be…I don’t know, kind of a dork?”

He shouldn’t know that. Recognizing people was one thing; recognizing Tex was one thing. Knowing who Carolina and York are is one thing. Knowing who Wash is, on it’s own, would be one thing. But he shouldn’t be able to _remember_ enough to notice any personality changes.

“He- yeah.” Tex nods.

“What happened?”

“Project Freelancer.”

“That really fucked you guys up, huh?”

“I’m fine,” Tex says. But he’s right, in a way. “But, yeah. You guys too.”

“Guess so.”

“Come on, Church, the ship.”

“Right…”

Tex is going to have to talk to Epsilon. This shouldn’t happen, and they both know that. Even if he’s not doing it on purpose, it still needs to be addressed. He’ll probably know eventually. Church, that is. He’ll probably learn what happened, eventually, but not yet. It hasn’t been long enough yet, for him to be able to handle that.

Maybe it never will be, but it definitely isn’t now.

"Is he gonna be okay?"

"He'll live."

"Better than us, then."

"Yeah."

Church is an AI. Tucker’s been spending all this time with an AI, and he had no idea. Church didn’t- doesn’t- know either. Which is seriously fucked up. Something happened, but the other AI- Epsilon- didn’t clarify the details. Just that the bastards running Project Freelancer had, “hurt him,” and he doesn’t remember what happened. Doesn’t remember that he’s a _fucking AI._

There’s a lot that’s messed up about what he and the others were told. That’s not even getting into the Simulation bases, and that shit. And now Tex says- or she agrees with what the other Freelancer who got shot said- that they’re moving to some place called _Valhalla_. Which shouldn’t even really matter, but…

But if they stay here, or go wherever the Project will have them relocate, they’ll just be doing whatever those bastards want. The pricks that decided they were shitty enough soldiers- which fine, whatever- to be fodder for Freelances. The one’s that fucked Church up bad enough he thinks he’s a ghost _,_ instead of an AI.

And _god damn it_ , he's spent too much time around these assholes. Because he kind of doesn’t want to just up and leave, without them, and Tex is probably going to bully them all into going _anyway_ , and honestly he…probably would go if she didn’t. A nice, “fuck you,” to Project Freelancer. A way to keep some things the same.

“Alright, Junior, looks like we’re going to Valhalla.”

“So,” Grif starts, “you’re going too, right?”

Simmons stares, silent. Then, slowly, he breathes a sigh. “What’s the point?”

“Don’t start that, Sarge’ll give a speech.”

“I gave up organs for this war. And Limbs.”

“You gave up organs and got _robot parts,_ I just got more shitty flesh bits.”

“Hey those are my shitty flesh bits you’re talking about!” Then: “Wait are you seriously going? You know you’ll end up doing more work, right?”

“Don’t remind me.” Grif sighs.

“But you’re going?”

“Yeah, well. If we don’t Tex will “convince” us to go anyway.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, Simmons, why are you here?”

“In the existential way or the canyon.”

“Canyon.”

The thing is that at some point the only question he’d have about that, is why they were assigned here. With that mystery solved, has to face that the answer to that question is harder than he thought it was. Because why _did_ he stay? Why does he want to stay?

“I don’t know,” Simmons says, finally.

“Me either, man.” Grif shrugs. “But here we are.”

“Here we are,” Simmons repeats, trying to find something in the words. Like they’ll answer his questions, but they don’t.

“Might as well go. I think Sarge’ll have a mental breakdown if he’s left alone with a bunch of Blues.”

“Guess we can’t let that happen.”

He’ll figure out the answer later, maybe.

He would have died. He was supposed to die. It takes until after he’s left the Base, to really process it. York had assumed, the second he realized Wash had been telling the truth, but it’s hard to process. He would be dead, right now. That easily. Because of _Wyoming_ of all people.

_[Knowing Wyoming was capable of causing your…death, it’s a good thing he has been dealt with.}_

_A good thing, huh?_

_[He would have been a hindrance, anyway, knowing that he was targeting someone we will be traveling with.]_

_Sound like you just don’t like him, personally, D._

_[I don’t hold grudges.]_

_Didn’t say that, but since_ **_**you did.** _ ** _What would you have a grudge against?_

_[...]_

_Delta?_

_[He would have killed you.]_

_Yep._

_[I would prefer if you did not die.]_

_Aw, I love you too._

_[That is not what I said. I'm not capable of that.]_

_Too late, that’s how I’m choosing to take it._

Tex smacks Wash upside the head- helmet, technically, luckily- when they get him onto the ship. “What was that for?!”

“Thinking about leaving.”

“Seriously?”

“We’re gonna have a talk about you trying do shit by yourself.”

“I don’t-”

“Yes you do.” Tex’s tone implies _just try arguing with me, and I’ll kill you._ So Wash remains silent.

 _{She’s right.}_ Tex heads further into the ship, as the Reds and Blues start t pile in. FILSS- Sheila, as they’re calling her- tells Tex something about Gamma. _{You keep acting like you have to do this all yourself.}_

_I have you._

_{You tried to get me to leave multiple time to handle things on your own!}_

_Okay…well…_

_{That’s what I thought.}_

“She’s right, you know.” York says, as he sits down next to Wash. He gives him a light enough shove that it doesn’t hurt his injuries.

“Not you too.”

“Just because you’re the only one,” York lowers his voice, “from the future, doesn’t mean you’re the only one who can do anything.”

“But- I’m not- that’s not what I’m doing.”

“Isn’t it?” Wash…can’t argue with him. Which he hates because he feels like he should. Like he _must_ have a denial for that, but…he doesn’t. “See. I know now, Tex knows, let us help.”

“Caboose and Donut know now.”

“Which one’s Donut?”

“Pink.”

“Oh, man, I thought I was just mishearing his name. It’s actually Donut?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, well…they can…probably help with...something?”

“Caboose is freakishly strong- just ask him for a hug- and Donut has a hell of an arm.”

“Aw you love them.”

“What?!”

“I can just hear it in your voice.”

“Shut the fuck up, no you can’t.”

“See, you’ve got us and two AI.” A pause. "Four AI."

“Right…” Wash sighs. “You think Carolina will believe any of this? Or Maine?”

“I…don’t know. Maybe? But Carolina…”

“Yeah.”

“In the future- your future- was she…okay?”

“Eventually.”

“Oh.”

“She…missed you.”

“Well I _am_ pretty great,” he tries to joke, but his voice gives him away. “I don’t think it’ll be that easy, to get her to go along with…all of this. Working with Tex, and all.”

“Yeah, but… _we’ll_ figure it out.”

"There you go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone: "wash is trying to do everything by himself"  
> wash: "no i'm not!"  
> literally everyone else: "YES YOU ARE"
> 
> idk how to write sarge dialogue. like i know the *mood* but the words......oof


	17. Silent Knowing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> South is a recovery agent. South knows that North knows she’s a recovery agent. And South is well aware that her brother knows that she knows that. But they sure as hell aren’t addressing it. Because if either of them mention it, then they have to acknowledge what that actually means. Have to address the fact that North is carrying around Freelancer tech that they want back. That South is technically supposed to retrieve.
> 
> Neither of them discuss it, and Theta pretends not to know because North pretends not to know. And South pretends they don’t know because it’s easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey its ya boy.........life is a disaster but i finally got this chapter done  
> ironically it was rwby that made me have the motivation for this rvb fic, i havent watched 0 and based on what i heard it probably wont be for me, but i'll get to it eventually if only bc i love fiona nova dearly

When the final hour Sheila warns the have is up, Tex expects a lot of trouble. It’s not as if Gamma can do _much_ while in the ship- as long as they keep it unable to fly- and he wont risk himself, most likely, but it’s still a concern. Because getting him out of the ship and somewhere safe isn’t something she assumes will be easy.

But he just gives up.

At first Tex assumes it’s a lie- Gamma _is_ deceit, after all- but he just…gives up. Once he knows the full extent of what’s happened while he was trapped behind the firewall- when he hears about Wyoming’s death- he gives up. At least for the moment. Transfers to a storage device without argument.

There’s plenty of suspicion running around in Tex’s head about what Gamma’s actually planning to do, but for now he’s not an immediate threat. She holds onto Gamma and Omega, despite how much she considers just getting rid of them, and returns Eta and Iota to Wash, while they’re travelling.

Something about the whole thing doesn’t sit right with Tex, but despite that she doesn’t know what the better solution is. Getting rid of them is what she wants to do, but Omega was promised his life- at least for now- and Gamma isn’t trying anything, with Wyoming gone. The two together might be a problem, but they’re not doing anything at the moment.

“Do you two know what we’re going to do?” She says, looking at the two storage devices in her hand. Each AI flickers to life after a moment.

“I know,” Omega says. Gamma is silent, looking between the two.

Then, finally. “Yes.”

“You don’t.” Tex shakes her head. “We’re going to go after the Director. For what he did to…us.”

It’s skipping ahead a bit, but still the truth. Even if these two helped, after they were created, they were still a product of what was done to Alpha. Maybe they’ll at least stay out of their way, so long as that’s the goal.

Omega is silent, shockingly so, but he already knew that. He knows _too much_ , now. They should have set up a new channel or- or something. Kept Omega away from Epsilon, and out of Wash’s head. But it's too late to fix, now.

“I see.” Gamma pauses. “I want to help.”

“Is that _true?”_

“You’d know if I was lying.”

Tex isn’t certain that’s the case, but… “Fine.”

“If you let me, I could help,” Omega says. Tex somehow believes that less than what the AI meant to lie had to say.

“You’re not doing _anything.”_

“Here if you need me, _Tex.”_

South is a recovery agent. South knows that _North_ knows she’s a recovery agent. And South is well aware that her brother knows that she knows that. But they sure as hell aren’t addressing it. Because if either of them mention it, then they have to acknowledge what that actually means. Have to address the fact that North is carrying around Freelancer tech that they want back. That South is technically supposed to retrieve.

But so long as he doesn’t have his recovery beacon go off- and it _wont_ \- she can pretend it’s not something to think about. Command sure isn’t questioning her on it. So it doesn’t matter. So North conveniently has other things to do in the area when South has to go after a recovery beacon. So North extra-conveniently has somewhere else to be, when South is taking the equipment back to the project.

Neither of them discuss it, and Theta pretends not to know because North pretends not to know. And South pretends they don’t know because it’s easier.

“Recovery One, this is Command, we have a level one distress signal, immediate response necessary.”

“Got it.”

 _What the hell was Wyoming doing in the middle of nowhere?_ South can’t help but think, when the details are relayed to her.

“Going somewhere?”

“None of your business.” South rolls her eyes, turning to look at North. “Unless you’re planning on coming with me?”

“Who knows, maybe I have stuff to do around there, too?”

“What a coincidence that would be. Some old simulation base called Blood Gulch.”

“What a coincidence indeed, I do have something to do there.”

“Sure you do.”

 _“I’ve got your back, always,”_ he’d said. For the time being- while things with Project Freelancer are still up in the air, and their ex-co-workers are scattered who-knows-where, that means sticking together. Sometimes she wonders if it would be better or worse, to separate. If the not-knowing would be worse than the silent-knowing they're stuck in.

Right after the crash they’d escaped together. Until Command got in contact with her and, against her better judgement, South had responded. Landed herself a gig with the promise of her own AI, eventually. Funny, she thinks, how much easier it is for some people.

Carolina just demanded her way into _two,_ the others were just given their own, and _Wash_ of all people went off and started stealing them.

And _South_ is stuck without one because Project Freelancer is a _scam_. Because she’s sure either the Counselor or Director thought- she doesn’t actually know. Was it just to see what she’d do? Or did they not realize she was just as worthy of it as the others?

Could be worse, maybe. Could be whatever happened with Maine. Could be Carolina, thrown to her death. Could be-

Wyoming, apparently. Dead, without his AI, in the middle of a shitty box-canyon in the middle of nowhere.

“What the hell happened here?” South can’t quite figure out the _multiple_ corpses, or the how or why’s of them being there. Was that a _fucking alien?_

“Holy shit.”

“What’s up?” South stands, taking with her the last of Wyoming’s equipment. She could probably lie to Command. Say everything was gone when she got there, and keep the distortion unit. Give her an edge, not that she could properly run it without an AI.

“Down, actually.”

“What?”

North motions to the ground, as South approaches, and she has half a mind to kick him into space for that joke. “Florida.”

“Oh.” South looks down and, yep, there’s sure a corpse. De-helmeted to display Florida’s face. A little more observation shows her that something more must have gone on. There’s a _lot_ of blood, and a big puddle of it nowhere near Florida’s corpse. “Wow what the fuck happened?”

“I have no clue. Theta?”

“Uh- it looks like there was a fire fight. Someone must have escaped badly hurt,” Theta says, as he flickers into place next to North’s head. For all South can admit a bitterness about the AI- or maybe her own lack of- she doesn’t think she’d want to keep Theta around. Couldn’t deal with the _child_ the way North does.

Sometimes South worries that Theta is painting a target on North's back, and her in turn, but she’ll deal with that when it becomes a problem. For now she mutters a thanks for his observation, and let’s them know she's ready to be off.

South pauses when her radio comes on. “Recovery One, this is Command, we have a level one distress signal, immediate response necessary.”

“I just dealt with that.”

“This is a new one.”

South huffs a sigh. “Alright, tell me.”

“It’s Agent York.”

“Alright.”

Command relays the location while South considers what that means. Wyoming didn’t have Gamma, but Gamma had already left back when Tex tried to steal it. York, on the other hand…

Someone could have been after Delta, and if someone is after Delta, it’s probably Wash.

“Something new?”

“Isn’t it always?” South sighs. “You ever worry you’ve got a big target painted on your head?”

“Nope. I’ve got you watching my back, don’t I?”

“Loser, fine. Whatever.”

They don’t talk about that, either. The fact that neither of them noticed anything different, besides Wash’s weird recovery time. The fact they’d been talking to him normally- she’d had a conversation with his _fucking AI_ \- and then he’d done the exact same shit Sigma had Maine doing, apparently.

If Theta wasn’t basically a child, she’d be worried North would end up the same way. She very specifically doesn’t think about what any potential AI they’d give her would end up being like. Doing.

“So,” York starts, leaning against the wall of the new blue base, “where do we even start?”

“Getting others on board, I guess,” Wash says, from where they’ve forced him to _sit down._ York is amazed by how much he argued against them. The fact they got him and Epsilon to agree to stay in Valhalla with the Reds and Blues, while everyone else is off doing something else is probably a miracle.

“Do we even know where the others are?”

“You know where Carolina is, right?” Tex asks, directed at Wash. Right, he'd said that before.

“Yeah. And I think I know how to find South, which should mean finding North.”

“And Maine?”

“I have no idea.”

“Well,” York says, shrugging, “he should be easy to contact, since we still have a channel to ping him on. Bigger question, who’s doing what?”

“Apparently _I’m_ staying here.” Wash huffs, clearly annoyed. Some part of him is still his old self, then.

“Aw cheer up, your stimulation troopers are here.”

“Their not _mine_.”

“Oh? They’re not?”

“They’re Tex’s, obviously.”

“Speaking of.” Tex get’s their attention. York's surprised she didn't try to deny that. “Why don’t you try getting them to do _some_ training.”

 _“This again,_ ” Wash mutters, before nodding. York makes a mental note to ask about that, later.

“I’ll go find Maine, that shouldn’t be difficult. But I’m pretty sure Carolina wont be happy to see _me_ , so... York?”

“You got it.”

“So what’s the method to find the twins?”

“South is _probably_ a recovery agent.” Wash’s tone implies she _was one_ in his timeline. York still has trouble wrapping his head around that. The time travel thing. “So if a beacon goes off, she might show up. I disabled mine, but…”

“Me too,” Tex says, simply, shrugging.

“Wait I have an idea.” York waits until they both turn back to him to speak. “Bet we can fake the recovery signal. Or falsely activate it, at least.”

“How’s that?”

“The beacon’s are in our armor, right? There’s gotta be something we can remove, and set off separately from us.”

“And then it’ll seem like one of us.”

“And draw her right to us.” York nods. "What do you think, is that possible?"

“In theory.” Tex shrugs.

“D?”

“It’s possible.” With Delta’s assurance, that plan is set.

“So where are you planning on leading her to?” Wash asks.

“I didn’t get that far." York shrugs. "Leading her straight here before we know if she’s on our side can’t be a good idea.”

“Lead her to me, then.” Tex rolls her shoulders, likes she's getting ready to fight. “I’ll start with her and North, since we don’t know how that’ll go.”

“No offense, Tex, but do you want to take help with you?” Wash asks. Not for the first time.

“One of the AI-twins?” Tex shifts her weight back and forth. She’d denied similar offers multiple times already, so York is prepared for her to say the same, but she nods and holds her hand out to Wash. York recovers from the surprise as she takes Iota’s storage unit.

“Guess we’ve all got our plans,” York says, simply. There’s a pause before Wash laughs.

“Do you have a real plan, or are you just going to hope Carolina hears you out?”

“Hey, that _is_ a plan.”

“Sure, okay.”

With plans set, and information shared, York and Tex leave to hunt down their respective Freelancers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love south, actually. does that mean i know how to write her? idk you decide that
> 
> next chapter: we finding some folks i guess  
> i have it kinda-outlined

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always greatly appreciated


End file.
